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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Johnny Clarke to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Machine,
The Star Department,
Morten Harket,
Maurizio,
PIL,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Young Rascals,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Terry,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Trumans Water,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Y Pants,
Urselle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hardrive,
The Music Machine,
Sight & Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Banda Bassotti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
CMW,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Index,
FM Einheit,
Circle Jerks,
Sparks,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
The Durutti Column,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minny Pops,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
The Electric Prunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Raincoats,
The Monks,
Main Source,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Görl,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.