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 Spain and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro 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 Gichy Dan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Yellowson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Khruangbin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Echospace,
Kayak,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dirtbombs,
Grey Daturas,
Sight & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Zapp,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doors,
Tears for Fears,
Curtis Mayfield,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Juan Atkins,
The Associates,
Janne Schatter,
Underground Resistance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
Bill Wells,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABC,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
The American Breed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
Frankie Knuckles,
These Immortal Souls,
Neu!,
David Bowie,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
Excepter,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
The Offenders,
Wally Richardson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.