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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Evens,
Wings,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Dolphy,
Maleditus Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Basic Channel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Lynne,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
June of 44,
Bill Wells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eden Ahbez,
Glenn Branca,
Camouflage,
David Bowie,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ten City,
Boz Scaggs,
Barry Ungar,
The Associates,
the Human League,
Delta 5,
Swell Maps,
Suicide,
The Kinks,
Anakelly,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gabor Szabo,
Fear,
Carl Craig,
Essential Logic,
Roger Hodgson,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
The Busters,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Bluetip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.