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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Shadows of Knight to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Delta 5,
Tropical Tobacco,
Letta Mbulu,
Desert Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
a-ha,
Bluetip,
Khruangbin,
Althea and Donna,
Magma,
Neu!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Evens,
Youth Brigade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wire,
Eve St. Jones,
Deadbeat,
Pantaleimon,
Royal Trux,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gories,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Smog,
Lower 48,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sandy B,
Accadde A,
Popol Vuh,
Pylon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smiths,
Nas,
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Order,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.