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 Malawi and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Thee Headcoats to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric Copeland,
Eddi Front,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zapp,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
the Slits,
F. McDonald,
Suburban Knight,
Lakeside,
Niagra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
The Stooges,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
Monolake,
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots,
Skarface,
Franke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Electric Prunes,
The Techniques,
Alison Limerick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Jandek,
Adolescents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Skatalites,
New York Dolls,
Schoolly D,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.