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 Jordan and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ 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 Drexciya to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
DJ Style,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Teasers,
Eddi Front,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Shuggie Otis,
Kurtis Blow,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
Infiniti,
Faust,
Freddie Wadling,
Spoonie Gee,
The Buckinghams,
The Doobie Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Circle Jerks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Iggy Pop,
PIL,
Boz Scaggs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Pagans,
Robert Wyatt,
Blancmange,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Japan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Heaven 17,
This Heat,
X-101,
Q65,
Ultravox,
Funky Four + One,
The Martian,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
Derrick May,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Motions,
Boredoms,
Vainqueur,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.