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 Brunei and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Remains,
Nik Kershaw,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
Lucky Dragons,
Half Japanese,
Organ,
The Fugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Icehouse,
Nas,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxette,
Bill Near,
The Barracudas,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Can,
Cymande,
Oblivians,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
Echospace,
Judy Mowatt,
Warsaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Television,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minor Threat,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
The Toasters,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Smog,
Yusef Lateef,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.