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 Belgium and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Spandau Ballet to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Warren Ellis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach,
Erykah Badu,
Aaron Thompson,
Technova,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
The Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
The Victims,
Ludus,
Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The United States of America,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siglo XX,
Smog,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Charles Mingus,
Reagan Youth,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bluetip,
Wings,
Lower 48,
Chrome,
Bronski Beat,
Crash Course in Science,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Boredoms,
Heaven 17,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mo-Dettes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blackbyrds,
In Retrospect,
Magma,
The Dirtbombs,
Groovy Waters,
Radio Birdman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Pus,
The Cure,
The Names,
Stiv Bators,
The Young Rascals,
the Sonics,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.