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 Nauru and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
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 organ 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 Barbara Tucker to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Von Mondo,
Zero Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vladislav Delay,
Fat Boys,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lyres,
Roxette,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Franke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Q65,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
Joy Division,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Television Personalities,
The Remains,
Wire,
The Kinks,
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
Make Up,
Wasted Youth,
The Slackers,
10cc,
Qualms,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Scratch Acid,
Lower 48,
Archie Shepp,
Charles Mingus,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Absolute Body Control,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang of Four,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
The Buckinghams,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skaos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scion,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.