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 Cape Verde and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Sam Rivers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti 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 punk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
One Last Wish,
Black Pus,
Michelle Simonal,
Oneida,
Scion,
The Knickerbockers,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Lalann,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Coltrane,
KRS-One,
Man Parrish,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mandrill,
Scrapy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marvin Gaye,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fear,
David Bowie,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
Animal Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Das Ding,
Ituana,
Chrome,
Outsiders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
Ossler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
B.T. Express,
Duran Duran,
Motorama,
MDC,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Crime,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gichy Dan,
Letta Mbulu,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.