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 Iran and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes 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 R.M.O. 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Infiniti,
Lungfish,
Oneida,
Todd Rundgren,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Carl Craig,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
The Monochrome Set,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
Man Parrish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
FM Einheit,
The Toasters,
Yazoo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
DJ Style,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
Lower 48,
Black Moon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The New Christs,
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joey Negro,
Kas Product,
The Buckinghams,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Model 500,
Trumans Water,
The Happenings,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
Wings,
The Divine Comedy,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
New York Dolls,
One Last Wish,
Royal Trux,
Neu!,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.