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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 Fat Boys to the dance 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms 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?
Bad Manners,
Eric Copeland,
Excepter,
Make Up,
Faraquet,
Mark Hollis,
The Tremeloes,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
The Fortunes,
Sun City Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
Andrew Hill,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
The Slackers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
kango's stein massive,
Byron Stingily,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Infiniti,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Moss Icon,
Nas,
The Residents,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scientists,
Boredoms,
Derrick May,
AZ,
The Wake,
Bauhaus,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
48th St. Collective,
Erasure,
Animal Collective,
Little Man,
June of 44,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.