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 Slovenia 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Smoke to the electroclash 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cameo,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Malaria!,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Motorama,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Copeland,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
FM Einheit,
Marmalade,
The Smoke,
10cc,
Laurel Aitken,
T. Rex,
Sun City Girls,
Animal Collective,
This Heat,
Gabor Szabo,
Letta Mbulu,
U.S. Maple,
Don Cherry,
Q and Not U,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Anthony Braxton,
ABC,
Sixth Finger,
EPMD,
Heaven 17,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
The Sonics,
Siglo XX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dorothy Ashby,
AZ,
Harmonia,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.