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 Mauritius and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Erasure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Severed Heads,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fuzztones,
Shuggie Otis,
Deepchord,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Charles Mingus,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
Babytalk,
Subhumans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
This Heat,
Vladislav Delay,
Toni Rubio,
Harmonia,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Angels of Light,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jandek,
Kenny Larkin,
Cheater Slicks,
Make Up,
The Slackers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wings,
The Mummies,
The Blackbyrds,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blossom Toes,
Banda Bassotti,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.