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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sixth Finger to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Anthony Braxton,
Delta 5,
Nirvana,
Smog,
The Move,
Maurizio,
The Trojans,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Agent Orange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Niagra,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Hood,
48th St. Collective,
China Crisis,
Whodini,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Malaria!,
The Litter,
Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Count Five,
Kool Moe Dee,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
UT,
The Smiths,
The Velvet Underground,
Sandy B,
Sister Nancy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alphaville,
Procol Harum,
Robert Görl,
FM Einheit,
Tommy Roe,
James White and The Blacks,
Susan Cadogan,
New York Dolls,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Teasers,
Organ,
The Music Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tears for Fears,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.