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 Eritrea and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pantaleimon to the disco 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Sandy B,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
Danielle Patucci,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
Nirvana,
Bobby Sherman,
The Durutti Column,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lee Hazlewood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brand Nubian,
Juan Atkins,
Sight & Sound,
UT,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
The Move,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
The Divine Comedy,
Pere Ubu,
Rapeman,
Brass Construction,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marine Girls,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Blancmange,
Oblivians,
The Slackers,
June of 44,
Deadbeat,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.