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 Cameroon and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Alton Ellis to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Green,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Television,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Colin Newman,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Severed Heads,
Patti Smith,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gabor Szabo,
Loose Ends,
Bluetip,
Spandau Ballet,
the Sonics,
Radiohead,
Motorama,
Barrington Levy,
John Holt,
Delta 5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gories,
Schoolly D,
Japan,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
David Axelrod,
Banda Bassotti,
Lyres,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Accadde A,
Masters at Work,
Eden Ahbez,
X-101,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moby Grape,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Nirvana,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.