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 Ivory Coast and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faraquet,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arcadia,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erykah Badu,
E-Dancer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Audionom,
The Cowsills,
The Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
Aloha Tigers,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
Crash Course in Science,
James White and The Blacks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Schoolly D,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Severed Heads,
John Lydon,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
New York Dolls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Easy Going,
the Slits,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Tomorrow,
Piero Umiliani,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
Panda Bear,
the Human League,
Cymande,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
One Last Wish,
Niagra,
Kenny Larkin,
Lower 48,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
Laurel Aitken,
Gabor Szabo,
Wally Richardson,
Nik Kershaw,
Eden Ahbez,
These Immortal Souls,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.