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 Dominican Republic and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kenny Larkin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Suicide,
Maleditus Sound,
Deepchord,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
Jandek,
PIL,
Eden Ahbez,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crooked Eye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dennis Brown,
Panda Bear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Babytalk,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Eric Copeland,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ossler,
Derrick May,
The Cramps,
The Pop Group,
Agitation Free,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Eve St. Jones,
Wire,
The Gap Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blancmange,
Joe Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Judy Mowatt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Neu!,
The Victims,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
Kerri Chandler,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.