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 Ecuador and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Quantec to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Dirtbombs,
Bang On A Can,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Almond,
Pagans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Little Man,
Oneida,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
The Alarm Clocks,
R.M.O.,
Dual Sessions,
Barrington Levy,
Black Sheep,
Max Romeo,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sound,
Roy Ayers,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
Stereo Dub,
The Vogues,
Procol Harum,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantytec,
Excepter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quando Quango,
Roxy Music,
Swell Maps,
Mad Mike,
Oblivians,
Pere Ubu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lower 48,
Harmonia,
the Bar-Kays,
Fear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
Heaven 17,
KRS-One,
Blancmange,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zero Boys,
Guru Guru,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monolake,
Echospace,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.