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 Equatorial Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hoover to the rap 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mars,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
CMW,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
Ludus,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Litter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Hardrive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slick Rick,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül,
Ossler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
R.M.O.,
Glenn Branca,
Eli Mardock,
Icehouse,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sonics,
Goldenarms,
the Normal,
The Stooges,
Tomorrow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Dolphy,
Masters at Work,
Marvin Gaye,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lightning Bolt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stiv Bators,
Camouflage,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Wire,
The Martian,
Black Sheep,
Altered Images,
The Mummies,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.