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 Korea North and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '50s 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 Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Angels of Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moebius,
Qualms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
China Crisis,
Soulsonic Force,
OOIOO,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Agent Orange,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pierre Henry,
Aaron Thompson,
Soul II Soul,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
Brand Nubian,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Searchers,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
Newcleus,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Crooked Eye,
The Gun Club,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unwound,
Spoonie Gee,
Piero Umiliani,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare,
Procol Harum,
Khruangbin,
Yaz,
Harmonia,
D'Angelo,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Motorama,
The Grass Roots,
Hasil Adkins,
The Index,
Slave,
The Offenders,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.