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 Bhutan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Oneida 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
a-ha,
Susan Cadogan,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
Y Pants,
Leonard Cohen,
Johnny Osbourne,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Litter,
Mantronix,
Guru Guru,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Ohio Players,
Cameo,
Amazonics,
The Techniques,
Second Layer,
Adolescents,
Black Bananas,
ABBA,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Piero Umiliani,
Yellowson,
Excepter,
Ponytail,
Henry Cow,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Offenders,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
the Normal,
The Wake,
Eden Ahbez,
Dennis Brown,
Altered Images,
The Velvet Underground,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.