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 San Marino and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum 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 Busters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
the Bar-Kays,
Franke,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Arthur Verocai,
Desert Stars,
Echospace,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ludus,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Masters at Work,
Andrew Hill,
Crime,
The Selecter,
Moby Grape,
UT,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tubeway Army,
Sight & Sound,
Black Sheep,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Knickerbockers,
Crash Course in Science,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Busters,
The Barracudas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thee Headcoats,
Vladislav Delay,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Man Parrish,
Inner City,
Roxy Music,
Bill Near,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Idris Muhammad,
The Litter,
Alphaville,
Colin Newman,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Fatback Band,
The Move,
Mantronix,
The Blackbyrds,
Subhumans,
Lyres,
Howard Jones,
The Tremeloes,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.