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 Iceland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the disco 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Steve Hackett,
The Misunderstood,
Ronan,
The Kinks,
Agent Orange,
Crime,
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fatback Band,
David Axelrod,
The Offenders,
Make Up,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Shadows of Knight,
PIL,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Wake,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
MC5,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
The Move,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
ABC,
Archie Shepp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marine Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Goldenarms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tubeway Army,
James White and The Blacks,
Procol Harum,
Bush Tetras,
Ronnie Foster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
Ludus,
Deakin,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.