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 Poland and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The New Christs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
U.S. Maple,
Tommy Roe,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pagans,
Funky Four + One,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Maleditus Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
the Human League,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
The United States of America,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
Television,
Hashim,
Dave Gahan,
Goldenarms,
David McCallum,
Altered Images,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
Hoover,
Q and Not U,
Cymande,
Amon Düül,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scratch Acid,
Drive Like Jehu,
Trumans Water,
Echospace,
Flipper,
Icehouse,
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Archie Shepp,
Basic Channel,
Arab on Radar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.