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 Montenegro and from Halifax.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Absolute Body Control 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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
AZ,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Last Poets,
Hoover,
Blossom Toes,
Accadde A,
Alice Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Connie Case,
Davy DMX,
The Fuzztones,
Tim Buckley,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Roxy Music,
The Raincoats,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blake Baxter,
The Gladiators,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
UT,
This Heat,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
Bill Near,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall,
The Neon Judgement,
New Order,
Radiohead,
The Sonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
DJ Style,
Surgeon,
Sällskapet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Camouflage,
Ten City,
Rotary Connection,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims,
Skarface,
Oblivians,
Josef K,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.