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 Qatar and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Surgeon to the electroclash 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Wasted Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Make Up,
The J.B.'s,
The Leaves,
The Neon Judgement,
Minnie Riperton,
Faraquet,
Mandrill,
Yusef Lateef,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gories,
Babytalk,
MDC,
Monks,
Index,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liliput,
Letta Mbulu,
The Real Kids,
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
Banda Bassotti,
Erykah Badu,
The Sonics,
Steve Hackett,
The Fuzztones,
The Doobie Brothers,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Man Parrish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Smiths,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
Grey Daturas,
The Cramps,
Funkadelic,
cv313,
Schoolly D,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mad Mike,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scratch Acid,
The Angels of Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Standells,
Subhumans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.