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 Georgia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Prince Buster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
L. Decosne,
The Monks,
Cybotron,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
The Zeros,
Ronnie Foster,
Nas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Josef K,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare,
Bronski Beat,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
Nils Olav,
H. Thieme,
The Modern Lovers,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Almond,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Bobby Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
kango's stein massive,
Rapeman,
Fad Gadget,
Motorama,
Faust,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Fluxion,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Das Ding,
Desert Stars,
The United States of America,
Depeche Mode,
Isaac Hayes,
Nirvana,
Jandek,
Boogie Down Productions,
Goldenarms,
Skarface,
The American Breed,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Tubeway Army,
Derrick Morgan,
Simply Red,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.