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 Kiribati and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ornette Coleman to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harmonia,
Motorama,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Walker Brothers,
Ossler,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
Thee Headcoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
The Mummies,
Parry Music,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Icehouse,
Scrapy,
Sugar Minott,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
Hasil Adkins,
Joy Division,
Cameo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Motions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Ituana,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Lower 48,
The Birthday Party,
Yusef Lateef,
CMW,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jawbox,
The Knickerbockers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Sound,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
Sam Rivers,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.