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 Tonga and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Byron Stingily to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalann,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed,
Unwound,
Livin' Joy,
Essential Logic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
the Germs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Skatalites,
The Monks,
Ten City,
DNA,
Funky Four + One,
Visage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
These Immortal Souls,
The Martian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Index,
Hardrive,
Rapeman,
The Five Americans,
Donald Byrd,
Cameo,
Laurel Aitken,
Reagan Youth,
EPMD,
Parry Music,
Albert Ayler,
Hasil Adkins,
Model 500,
Gang Green,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Audionom,
Arab on Radar,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
David Bowie,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
Stetsasonic,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.