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 Ecuador and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cymande to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
Darondo,
Bauhaus,
Essential Logic,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cure,
The Pretty Things,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Parry Music,
Stereo Dub,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sandy B,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Flash Fearless,
Ossler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tubeway Army,
Little Man,
Brand Nubian,
Swell Maps,
Tears for Fears,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
Terry Callier,
Brothers Johnson,
The Last Poets,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Smooth,
Fear,
Joyce Sims,
Camouflage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Derrick Morgan,
The Litter,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Womack,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yellowson,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.