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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Alice Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Smog,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kaleidoscope,
Joyce Sims,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
June Days,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David McCallum,
Soft Machine,
Animal Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Icehouse,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
L. Decosne,
Isaac Hayes,
Moby Grape,
F. McDonald,
Pulsallama,
Jandek,
Gichy Dan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tres Demented,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Wells,
DJ Style,
Soulsonic Force,
Nas,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
Technova,
The Sound,
Hot Snakes,
The Fortunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Babytalk,
Agent Orange,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gories,
kango's stein massive,
The Last Poets,
The Fugs,
The Five Americans,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Bar-Kays,
Josef K,
Ludus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Graham Central Station,
Swans,
Stetsasonic,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.