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 Costa Rica and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moody Blues to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
The Litter,
Inner City,
The Star Department,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Pylon,
Black Flag,
Silicon Teens,
Surgeon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
The Seeds,
Qualms,
The Martian,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ponytail,
Hasil Adkins,
ABC,
Rod Modell,
Lower 48,
Jeru the Damaja,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
DJ Style,
The Wake,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
Angry Samoans,
June Days,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blancmange,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ossler,
Little Man,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Cale,
Interpol,
Fat Boys,
E-Dancer,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
Unwound,
Fugazi,
Porter Ricks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scan 7,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.