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 Ghana and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Silicon Teens to the dance 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Can,
Hoover,
Saccharine Trust,
Soulsonic Force,
Visage,
The Doobie Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
The Grass Roots,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Foxx,
Gang of Four,
Youth Brigade,
Echospace,
Absolute Body Control,
The Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABBA,
The Walker Brothers,
Faust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Laurel Aitken,
China Crisis,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
The Gories,
AZ,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sex Pistols,
Boogie Down Productions,
Connie Case,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Sherman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gladiators,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes,
Organ,
The Fall,
Goldenarms,
Infiniti,
Yellowson,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Fat Boys,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.