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 Canada and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Big Daddy Kane to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Anakelly,
Rites of Spring,
Gabor Szabo,
The Residents,
Absolute Body Control,
The New Christs,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Tubeway Army,
Joyce Sims,
Brand Nubian,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Japan,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
DNA,
MC5,
the Human League,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
The Saints,
The Cure,
Average White Band,
The Real Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Organ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pulsallama,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
Cecil Taylor,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
Alton Ellis,
The Names,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters,
X-Ray Spex,
Make Up,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ohio Players,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aloha Tigers,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry's Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Chrome,
The Gap Band,
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joe Smooth,
Mo-Dettes,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.