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 Sweden and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shadows of Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
MDC,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
Mark Hollis,
OOIOO,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Searchers,
The Cure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Pere Ubu,
Fear,
Faraquet,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül II,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scan 7,
The Real Kids,
Soul II Soul,
Slave,
Echospace,
Shuggie Otis,
Motorama,
Deepchord,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pagans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
Blancmange,
Oneida,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
Cluster,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brick,
The Seeds,
Public Enemy,
Essential Logic,
Unwound,
Nas,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.