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 Armenia and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Albert Ayler to the rock 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
Barbara Tucker,
Marine Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mummies,
a-ha,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
Little Man,
Iggy Pop,
Mantronix,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Quadrant,
The Moody Blues,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
Junior Murvin,
L. Decosne,
Don Cherry,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monochrome Set,
John Lydon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Görl,
Colin Newman,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
Hot Snakes,
Icehouse,
Grauzone,
Cybotron,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Parry Music,
Boredoms,
The Buckinghams,
The Five Americans,
Audionom,
The Moleskins,
David McCallum,
The Stooges,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.