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 Guatemala and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camouflage to the disco 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Gladiators,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
New Age Steppers,
B.T. Express,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun Ra,
The Tremeloes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minnie Riperton,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Surgeon,
Ohio Players,
Sex Pistols,
Lightning Bolt,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Gichy Dan,
Saccharine Trust,
Loose Ends,
Dawn Penn,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
The Residents,
Tres Demented,
Bluetip,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
World's Most,
Heaven 17,
The Searchers,
Y Pants,
Liliput,
Moss Icon,
Lindisfarne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Freddie Wadling,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Evens,
Swell Maps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thompson Twins,
Rapeman,
The Real Kids,
The Remains,
Ossler,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Davy DMX,
The Cure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sparks,
Arcadia,
Country Teasers,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.