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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sam Rivers 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Jacques Brel,
Con Funk Shun,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Index,
Bob Dylan,
Desert Stars,
Roy Ayers,
Darondo,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Beau Brummels,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Finger,
Sam Rivers,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Porter Ricks,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cal Tjader,
T.S.O.L.,
Reuben Wilson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Animal Collective,
Josef K,
Talk Talk,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris & Cosey,
Al Stewart,
Ronan,
Sister Nancy,
Gichy Dan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scratch Acid,
Franke,
Gong,
Shuggie Otis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wire,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
The Toasters,
Inner City,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
Absolute Body Control,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Monolake,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.