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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
Y Pants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Soft Cell,
Nico,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
Skarface,
Dennis Brown,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Coltrane,
Letta Mbulu,
Radio Birdman,
ABBA,
Flipper,
Smog,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Grass Roots,
D'Angelo,
The Litter,
Marine Girls,
Bush Tetras,
K-Klass,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Near,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
Niagra,
The Associates,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
Derrick May,
Gang of Four,
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swans,
Nils Olav,
Animal Collective,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Wells,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
The Leaves,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
Silicon Teens,
Make Up,
Joey Negro,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.