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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sonny Sharrock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Oblivians,
The Walker Brothers,
Main Source,
Dual Sessions,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
Kenny Larkin,
The Index,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
The Martian,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
John Foxx,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Victims,
The Fugs,
The Motions,
Chris & Cosey,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
This Heat,
Rekid,
Fatback Band,
Pole,
Bauhaus,
The Sonics,
Jeff Lynne,
Mantronix,
Ice-T,
Pharoah Sanders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Half Japanese,
Agitation Free,
Black Bananas,
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül II,
Chrome,
Colin Newman,
X-101,
The Leaves,
MC5,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiohead,
the Germs,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rapeman,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.