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 Australia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Funkadelic to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Marmalade,
The Evens,
Monolake,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cymande,
John Holt,
Hashim,
Inner City,
Groovy Waters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
T. Rex,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
Wings,
H. Thieme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
Kurtis Blow,
Y Pants,
Television,
The Blackbyrds,
Cheater Slicks,
Sister Nancy,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Royal Trux,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boz Scaggs,
Das Ding,
T.S.O.L.,
Essential Logic,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
B.T. Express,
Joyce Sims,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
Reagan Youth,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.