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 India and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Albert Ayler to the rap 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
MDC,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jawbox,
Fad Gadget,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lakeside,
The Barracudas,
Franke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Y Pants,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Hardrive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Starr,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Malaria!,
H. Thieme,
The Move,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick Morgan,
Reuben Wilson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Pere Ubu,
Quando Quango,
Roxy Music,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Motorama,
Index,
Sparks,
the Sonics,
The Happenings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Womack,
Spandau Ballet,
Television Personalities,
Gong,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.