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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Stooges to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
H. Thieme,
Visage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Girls At Our Best!,
Slick Rick,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Arthur Verocai,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
Nils Olav,
Blossom Toes,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
Pere Ubu,
Barrington Levy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nirvana,
Hashim,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
Severed Heads,
Main Source,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lalann,
Judy Mowatt,
Negative Approach,
The Pop Group,
Crispian St. Peters,
David McCallum,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Excepter,
Procol Harum,
Con Funk Shun,
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
Bill Near,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bauhaus,
The Cramps,
In Retrospect,
The Residents,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.