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 United Kingdom and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Q65 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Gang Green,
ABBA,
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
The Smiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sonics,
Joensuu 1685,
The Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Count Five,
Bronski Beat,
Rapeman,
Fear,
the Germs,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Robert Wyatt,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Au Pairs,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
The Birthday Party,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scion,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Trumans Water,
Icehouse,
Minutemen,
Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
kango's stein massive,
Moebius,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Moleskins,
Chris Corsano,
Mr. Review,
Juan Atkins,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.