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 Grenada and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Reagan Youth to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Nik Kershaw,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Laurel Aitken,
the Soft Cell,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun City Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sam Rivers,
The Knickerbockers,
Siglo XX,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
Country Teasers,
Pulsallama,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brick,
Rakim,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Organ,
Bauhaus,
Heaven 17,
Boredoms,
Cal Tjader,
Lalann,
Theoretical Girls,
Tears for Fears,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Minor Threat,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
John Foxx,
The Gories,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kas Product,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mojo Men,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ornette Coleman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.