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 Sudan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cal Tjader to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Swell Maps,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scan 7,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Slits,
Steve Hackett,
Essential Logic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Royal Trux,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Neil Young,
Blancmange,
Rufus Thomas,
The Vogues,
Sun City Girls,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
World's Most,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Mars,
B.T. Express,
Bang On A Can,
Yaz,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra,
Harmonia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Rundgren,
Sarah Menescal,
Cymande,
Gabor Szabo,
Audionom,
Anakelly,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.