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 Belgium and from London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Harmonia,
The Pretty Things,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Tears for Fears,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
The Searchers,
the Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
This Heat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Simply Red,
Michelle Simonal,
Bronski Beat,
Prince Buster,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warsaw,
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Whodini,
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T.S.O.L.,
Loose Ends,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Mills,
The New Christs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
Quadrant,
Chris & Cosey,
Traffic Nightmare,
Neu!,
Vladislav Delay,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonic Youth,
Depeche Mode,
The Skatalites,
The Wake,
Technova,
FM Einheit,
Blossom Toes,
The Mojo Men,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.