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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blancmange to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Piero Umiliani,
Wire,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Black Dice,
Trumans Water,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Alton Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
U.S. Maple,
Qualms,
the Sonics,
cv313,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deadbeat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Idris Muhammad,
Q and Not U,
The Evens,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
X-101,
Pussy Galore,
Mandrill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Urselle,
Yaz,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Moody Blues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lightning Bolt,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Marine Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soulsonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Monks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Near,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Christie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.