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 Slovenia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 The Last Poets to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Zeros,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cybotron,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neil Young,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Sarah Menescal,
Scion,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sight & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Golliwogs,
Technova,
Quadrant,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Womack,
Juan Atkins,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nik Kershaw,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Byrd,
Minor Threat,
Arcadia,
The Smiths,
Marmalade,
Skaos,
Magazine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June of 44,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Infiniti,
Fear,
Symarip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
Graham Central Station,
Tubeway Army,
Sällskapet,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.