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 Russia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Green to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Index,
Can,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Byrd,
Essential Logic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mantronix,
The Dave Clark Five,
The American Breed,
Sandy B,
Crooked Eye,
Animal Collective,
Tommy Roe,
Amon Düül,
La Düsseldorf,
Colin Newman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lungfish,
The Black Dice,
Porter Ricks,
Blossom Toes,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
Trumans Water,
Ossler,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Tres Demented,
John Foxx,
The Martian,
Marmalade,
Young Marble Giants,
MDC,
Rufus Thomas,
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Jeff Lynne,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Echospace,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Zeros,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Junior Murvin,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.