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 Greece and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Parry Music,
The Moleskins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Matthew Bourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
Donald Byrd,
The Star Department,
DJ Style,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shuggie Otis,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
The Electric Prunes,
The Angels of Light,
Das Ding,
Q and Not U,
Kayak,
The Blackbyrds,
Audionom,
Ultra Naté,
The Skatalites,
Bronski Beat,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Prince Buster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scott Walker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skriet,
Gang Starr,
Ponytail,
KRS-One,
The Cowsills,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Second Layer,
The Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maurizio,
Ohio Players,
John Lydon,
Bluetip,
Fatback Band,
The Slackers,
Tom Boy,
Joy Division,
X-Ray Spex,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Basic Channel,
China Crisis,
Make Up,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.