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 Antigua and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Pierre Henry to the rap 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Red Krayola,
Bizarre Inc.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
The Selecter,
MDC,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Wire,
Stetsasonic,
Radio Birdman,
The Zeros,
The Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Adolescents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
One Last Wish,
Glenn Branca,
Moss Icon,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lucky Dragons,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Roxy Music,
Kerri Chandler,
Make Up,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
Dual Sessions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swell Maps,
Panda Bear,
Joy Division,
Steve Hackett,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme,
Alice Coltrane,
Idris Muhammad,
Fela Kuti,
Outsiders,
Drexciya,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Golliwogs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soul II Soul,
Black Sheep,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
Faust,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.