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 El Salvador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barrington Levy to the dance 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joy Division,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
The American Breed,
OOIOO,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lalann,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
Minutemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gong,
Hashim,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül,
The Monochrome Set,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Second Layer,
Fat Boys,
AZ,
The Fortunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Youth Brigade,
Yazoo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
Eden Ahbez,
Kenny Larkin,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Halsall,
Visage,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ronan,
The Smoke,
The Residents,
Agitation Free,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.