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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Bauhaus,
Pylon,
The Beau Brummels,
John Foxx,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
Index,
The Names,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blake Baxter,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
Dark Day,
Moebius,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
The Searchers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Young Marble Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Leaves,
Ken Boothe,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Marine Girls,
Gang Green,
The Invisible,
Marc Almond,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Minnie Riperton,
Howard Jones,
Gong,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Quando Quango,
Main Source,
Pagans,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aswad,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Real Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Piero Umiliani,
Blossom Toes,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.