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 Korea North and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Susan Cadogan to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chris & Cosey,
Lightning Bolt,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Skarface,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Alton Ellis,
Thompson Twins,
Skriet,
Qualms,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Procol Harum,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The Knickerbockers,
John Holt,
Fluxion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television,
Graham Central Station,
8 Eyed Spy,
Depeche Mode,
Crash Course in Science,
the Sonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat,
Lungfish,
the Swans,
Leonard Cohen,
Harry Pussy,
Accadde A,
The Angels of Light,
Pylon,
Goldenarms,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.