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 Saudi Arabia and from Manila.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 kango's stein massive to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Görl,
Brick,
The Invisible,
Sexual Harrassment,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Steve Hackett,
Cecil Taylor,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fall,
Chris Corsano,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Copeland,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Index,
Drexciya,
The Knickerbockers,
Joensuu 1685,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Age Steppers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Goldenarms,
Supertramp,
Glenn Branca,
Metal Thangz,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Clear Light,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Sherman,
David McCallum,
Bang On A Can,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Newcleus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
The Zeros,
The Last Poets,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
Flipper,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Golliwogs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.