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 Australia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Half Japanese to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Hood,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Henry Cow,
The Real Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Panda Bear,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tommy Roe,
Brand Nubian,
Brothers Johnson,
Crooked Eye,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Man Parrish,
Nas,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacob Miller,
Ralphi Rosario,
Banda Bassotti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dave Gahan,
Quadrant,
Das Ding,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deepchord,
Fear,
Brick,
The Music Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
Skarface,
The Misunderstood,
Glenn Branca,
Television,
Davy DMX,
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Sneak,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Underground Resistance,
Todd Terry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Green,
Adolescents,
Josef K,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.