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 Lesotho and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New Age Steppers,
Talk Talk,
Negative Approach,
Brand Nubian,
Von Mondo,
the Normal,
Gabor Szabo,
Barry Ungar,
ABBA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Urselle,
Ten City,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neil Young,
The Toasters,
Magma,
The Human League,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
B.T. Express,
Laurel Aitken,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Teasers,
Erasure,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Anakelly,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Hoover,
The Misunderstood,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
David McCallum,
Unrelated Segments,
Terry Callier,
Pylon,
Tommy Roe,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
These Immortal Souls,
Max Romeo,
Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Prunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.