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 Australia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the techno 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fela Kuti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Gregory Isaacs,
Schoolly D,
Alphaville,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gun Club,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Model 500,
The Evens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
Slave,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Fraelich,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
10cc,
Ronnie Foster,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Christie,
Gang Starr,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
Eric Dolphy,
Piero Umiliani,
Outsiders,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
Saccharine Trust,
Pagans,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
Y Pants,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Cale,
ABC,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sister Nancy,
OOIOO,
Animal Collective,
World's Most,
Pantaleimon,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.