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 Maldives and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ralphi Rosario,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June Days,
Moby Grape,
Swell Maps,
This Heat,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt,
Symarip,
Eddi Front,
Marc Almond,
The Selecter,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cymande,
The Mighty Diamonds,
10cc,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harry Pussy,
The Mojo Men,
Scion,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Erykah Badu,
The Wake,
Deadbeat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
Technova,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Kayak,
Nik Kershaw,
KRS-One,
The Dead C,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.