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 Denmark 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Faraquet to the jazz 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Eve St. Jones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joey Negro,
Dead Boys,
Pylon,
The Saints,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Byrd,
Rekid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oneida,
Suburban Knight,
L. Decosne,
Intrusion,
Nico,
Mo-Dettes,
Excepter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
These Immortal Souls,
Mission of Burma,
Dark Day,
Adolescents,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Finger,
The Golliwogs,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lower 48,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
a-ha,
David Axelrod,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
Desert Stars,
The Gories,
Bad Manners,
the Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Green,
Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Roxy Music,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doors,
AZ,
Motorama,
John Cale,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.