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 Latvia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Soft Cell to the crunk 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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Laurel Aitken,
Glenn Branca,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
June of 44,
June Days,
Skriet,
Erykah Badu,
Scrapy,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Fatback Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric Copeland,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
UT,
The Smiths,
Main Source,
The Slackers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ossler,
Loose Ends,
Ponytail,
Echospace,
the Swans,
The Gories,
Eyeless In Gaza,
China Crisis,
The Toasters,
Gang Starr,
Reuben Wilson,
Desert Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tim Buckley,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Symarip,
Stiv Bators,
The Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nils Olav,
Pet Shop Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Scion,
DJ Sneak,
Chris & Cosey,
Blancmange,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.