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 Korea South and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Make Up,
The United States of America,
Underground Resistance,
The Walker Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Jeff Mills,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tomorrow,
Marine Girls,
The Fall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Saints,
Gang of Four,
Eli Mardock,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Remains,
Terry Callier,
Gang Green,
Gichy Dan,
The Residents,
The Techniques,
Infiniti,
Trumans Water,
La Düsseldorf,
CMW,
Erasure,
Gong,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Prince Buster,
The Smiths,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Offenders,
Basic Channel,
Tommy Roe,
New York Dolls,
The Busters,
Visage,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
Massinfluence,
10cc,
EPMD,
The Birthday Party,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.