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 Paraguay and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sister Nancy to the grime 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Yaz,
Eric Dolphy,
Joyce Sims,
Deadbeat,
Bill Wells,
Aloha Tigers,
Silicon Teens,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Groovy Waters,
the Human League,
The Gories,
Jimmy McGriff,
UT,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ohio Players,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dark Day,
Deakin,
Kas Product,
Roxy Music,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
Theoretical Girls,
Swans,
The Motions,
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
Grauzone,
Morten Harket,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barry Ungar,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hardrive,
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.