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 Ireland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cameo to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Thompson Twins,
Sam Rivers,
Oneida,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
Kurtis Blow,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
Deakin,
Sällskapet,
Archie Shepp,
Pole,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cymande,
Susan Cadogan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donny Hathaway,
The Music Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
Soul Sonic Force,
DNA,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare,
Index,
Radiohead,
Inner City,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Josef K,
Electric Prunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Cecil Taylor,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Leaves,
Henry Cow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Groovy Waters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
X-Ray Spex,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.