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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tommy Roe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
June Days,
John Coltrane,
Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Tommy Roe,
Marine Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
Lakeside,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
Archie Shepp,
L. Decosne,
The Durutti Column,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
Chris & Cosey,
Rites of Spring,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Rundgren,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Warsaw,
Carl Craig,
cv313,
Deadbeat,
Moebius,
Zero Boys,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
MC5,
The Alarm Clocks,
Josef K,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dennis Brown,
The Golliwogs,
Toni Rubio,
Connie Case,
Leonard Cohen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Joey Negro,
The Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
The Fall,
Funky Four + One,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ken Boothe,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.