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 Algeria and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brass Construction to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Scott Walker,
Motorama,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Associates,
Hoover,
Newcleus,
Archie Shepp,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Red Krayola,
The Knickerbockers,
John Lydon,
Derrick May,
Quando Quango,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Toasters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Connie Case,
Brass Construction,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sparks,
Minnie Riperton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Lynne,
OOIOO,
The Grass Roots,
Hardrive,
Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eden Ahbez,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Wyatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Happenings,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Offenders,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
H. Thieme,
Skriet,
Bluetip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suicide,
Rotary Connection,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.