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 Maldives and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Joy Division to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Faust,
Lucky Dragons,
Nas,
The Tremeloes,
Bob Dylan,
Rites of Spring,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
Youth Brigade,
The Trojans,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Interpol,
Michelle Simonal,
Kurtis Blow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ten City,
Aloha Tigers,
Niagra,
Todd Terry,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Sonic Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Unrelated Segments,
The Misunderstood,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Nirvana,
Television,
The Selecter,
The Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Davy DMX,
Oblivians,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pere Ubu,
The Busters,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eric B and Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Offenders,
Juan Atkins,
Malaria!,
Yazoo,
Amazonics,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crash Course in Science,
Cal Tjader,
Sound Behaviour,
Dawn Penn,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.