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 Belize and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scientists to the grunge 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Copeland,
Stetsasonic,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smoke,
Janne Schatter,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
the Association,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Dead Boys,
Lyres,
Liliput,
Trumans Water,
Clear Light,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
New York Dolls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
UT,
The Busters,
Pere Ubu,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
The American Breed,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DNA,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kurtis Blow,
Carl Craig,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
The Mummies,
The Barracudas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blackbyrds,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.