Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Marshall Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Slick Rick to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Quadrant,
Sister Nancy,
Prince Buster,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cybotron,
Dual Sessions,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Human League,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
The Mojo Men,
Dawn Penn,
Ultimate Spinach,
DNA,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Moody Blues,
Skaos,
The Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
Lou Christie,
Fela Kuti,
Pagans,
Eve St. Jones,
Wings,
Fatback Band,
the Sonics,
Gichy Dan,
DJ Sneak,
David Axelrod,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Maleditus Sound,
L. Decosne,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
Half Japanese,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Byron Stingily,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra,
The Pop Group,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.