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 Libya and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fatback Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
FM Einheit,
Al Stewart,
Mandrill,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalann,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sex Pistols,
Y Pants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Echospace,
Sun Ra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Christie,
Sandy B,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
U.S. Maple,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
The Misunderstood,
Pole,
Stereo Dub,
The Count Five,
Maleditus Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roger Hodgson,
The Black Dice,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Dennis Brown,
Sun City Girls,
Essential Logic,
DJ Style,
Ultra Naté,
Underground Resistance,
Derrick Morgan,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
10cc,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.