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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Marc Almond to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Silicon Teens,
Sixth Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter and Kerry,
D'Angelo,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
Jawbox,
The Detroit Cobras,
U.S. Maple,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
Quantec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
Nils Olav,
Roger Hodgson,
Mars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blake Baxter,
Don Cherry,
Althea and Donna,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Skatalites,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
Moby Grape,
The Names,
Roxette,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cymande,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Davy DMX,
Siglo XX,
Au Pairs,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
Pylon,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.