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 Armenia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Peter & Gordon to the techno 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sällskapet,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Skaos,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Audionom,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MC5,
Spoonie Gee,
Loose Ends,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marmalade,
Cecil Taylor,
Faust,
Eddi Front,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Grass Roots,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
The United States of America,
Quando Quango,
Robert Hood,
Underground Resistance,
Procol Harum,
The Cure,
Main Source,
PIL,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
The Martian,
T. Rex,
Livin' Joy,
Newcleus,
New Order,
Skriet,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Lou Reed,
Joensuu 1685,
Youth Brigade,
The Golliwogs,
Babytalk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
Steve Hackett,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.