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 South Sudan and from Woodstock.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Byrd to the techno 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo,
Mad Mike,
The Knickerbockers,
Icehouse,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Motorama,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Zeros,
Sällskapet,
The Standells,
The Count Five,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
The Invisible,
X-101,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Donny Hathaway,
The Wake,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Stetsasonic,
Nas,
Subhumans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gong,
Adolescents,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
Qualms,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Byron Stingily,
Mandrill,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moody Blues,
Y Pants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dead Boys,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Fluxion,
The Grass Roots,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
K-Klass,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.