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 Mexico and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Hardrive to the grime 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Standells,
KRS-One,
Nick Fraelich,
Au Pairs,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Flag,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
Bill Near,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
A Certain Ratio,
Joy Division,
The Electric Prunes,
Ludus,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Sherman,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Make Up,
Moebius,
Young Marble Giants,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Circle Jerks,
The Angels of Light,
Nik Kershaw,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Whodini,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
Lou Christie,
Soul II Soul,
Mantronix,
Arab on Radar,
Todd Terry,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Crash Course in Science,
Eddi Front,
Scan 7,
The Kinks,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.