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 Mali and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the punk 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sound,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
Erasure,
Eli Mardock,
Depeche Mode,
Slave,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Todd Rundgren,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Starr,
The Divine Comedy,
Scratch Acid,
The United States of America,
Sound Behaviour,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin,
One Last Wish,
Organ,
In Retrospect,
Roger Hodgson,
Moby Grape,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultra Naté,
the Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Dark Day,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Lynne,
Mo-Dettes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Wally Richardson,
Sugar Minott,
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
Saccharine Trust,
Josef K,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Buckinghams,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angry Samoans,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.