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 Germany and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Marc Almond to the techno 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
Outsiders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Saints,
Ultra Naté,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Essential Logic,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Newcleus,
David McCallum,
Amazonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-Ray Spex,
Cybotron,
Agent Orange,
Fugazi,
Franke,
The Blues Magoos,
Liliput,
10cc,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
The Black Dice,
Yaz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Arcadia,
E-Dancer,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Index,
James White and The Blacks,
Barry Ungar,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Raincoats,
Make Up,
Tim Buckley,
Byron Stingily,
Royal Trux,
Brand Nubian,
Negative Approach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fugs,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.