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 United Kingdom and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Donald Fagen 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 Funky Four + One 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Unwound,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Young Marble Giants,
Surgeon,
Bronski Beat,
Nils Olav,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
Byron Stingily,
Half Japanese,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Neu!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tres Demented,
Todd Rundgren,
X-101,
Yellowson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rites of Spring,
Eli Mardock,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Brothers Johnson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Youth Brigade,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Chrome,
Swell Maps,
The Slits,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Foxx,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mantronix,
Hot Snakes,
Nas,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.