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 Morocco and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Scientists to the funk 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
Essential Logic,
The Last Poets,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
Gichy Dan,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Livin' Joy,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Altered Images,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Sheep,
The Pretty Things,
Fela Kuti,
Roxy Music,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Wyatt,
Slave,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
The Pop Group,
Symarip,
Roger Hodgson,
Malaria!,
Chris Corsano,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
Ituana,
DNA,
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
Gong,
David Bowie,
Erasure,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.