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 Benin and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rock 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
The Last Poets,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
PIL,
Althea and Donna,
Deepchord,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cymande,
Suburban Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Shoche,
Babytalk,
Lightning Bolt,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Görl,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
Al Stewart,
a-ha,
Brick,
Yaz,
Schoolly D,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Joy Division,
Bobby Hutcherson,
New York Dolls,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Flipper,
Franke,
Girls At Our Best!,
China Crisis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Essential Logic,
Von Mondo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Metal Thangz,
EPMD,
The Cowsills,
Massinfluence,
The Gap Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.