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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins 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?
Interpol,
Deepchord,
Second Layer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
The Victims,
Lightning Bolt,
Malaria!,
Sam Rivers,
Leonard Cohen,
John Foxx,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Maleditus Sound,
The Monks,
Dawn Penn,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Unrelated Segments,
Parry Music,
The Offenders,
Deadbeat,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
Television Personalities,
The Move,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
Michelle Simonal,
Ornette Coleman,
The Litter,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
Alton Ellis,
Graham Central Station,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
U.S. Maple,
China Crisis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
Gang Green,
Gerry Rafferty,
H. Thieme,
Niagra,
These Immortal Souls,
Mr. Review,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Almond,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.