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 Cyprus and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
Hardrive,
Accadde A,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Stooges,
The Barracudas,
Ituana,
Quantec,
Soulsonic Force,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quando Quango,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
U.S. Maple,
Roger Hodgson,
Siglo XX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha,
Marc Almond,
Pylon,
Alphaville,
One Last Wish,
Mandrill,
Ice-T,
Al Stewart,
Second Layer,
Symarip,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
Hot Snakes,
Masters at Work,
Fat Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
La Düsseldorf,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Hood,
Infiniti,
The Smoke,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Motions,
Maleditus Sound,
D'Angelo,
Althea and Donna,
Tears for Fears,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Negative Approach,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Terry,
Joe Smooth,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.