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 Libya and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Scrapy,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
Bronski Beat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
The Cure,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nation of Ulysses,
E-Dancer,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radiohead,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Star Department,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Litter,
Tommy Roe,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
This Heat,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Laurel Aitken,
Infiniti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Albert Ayler,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minnie Riperton,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Mills,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Lightning Bolt,
Ossler,
Saccharine Trust,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
The Five Americans,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.