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 Papua New Guinea and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin 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 Derrick Morgan to the electroclash 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
Albert Ayler,
Brothers Johnson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alton Ellis,
Sparks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Sonics,
New York Dolls,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Blancmange,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
Supertramp,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gun Club,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
Swell Maps,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Deadbeat,
Siglo XX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magazine,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Eddi Front,
Yusef Lateef,
Popol Vuh,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Flag,
Brick,
Roxette,
Ossler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
The Leaves,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
F. McDonald,
Oneida,
The Cure,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.