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 Mongolia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Misunderstood,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
The Angels of Light,
Agitation Free,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
Porter Ricks,
Barrington Levy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
U.S. Maple,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dark Day,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Hill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tears for Fears,
Lower 48,
World's Most,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fugs,
Underground Resistance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sällskapet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shoche,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Niagra,
Amon Düül II,
Eric Copeland,
Fugazi,
Maurizio,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Echospace,
The Monks,
LL Cool J,
Hasil Adkins,
L. Decosne,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.