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 Eritrea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
Siglo XX,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Subhumans,
Interpol,
LL Cool J,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
Wire,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sällskapet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Tim Buckley,
Trumans Water,
Alphaville,
Gong,
MDC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camouflage,
Shuggie Otis,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Monks,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
Wings,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barrington Levy,
Deakin,
Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anakelly,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
Ornette Coleman,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.