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 Bulgaria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 T. Rex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Robert Hood,
Quando Quango,
Man Eating Sloth,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
The Seeds,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Names,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
The Trojans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Half Japanese,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
John Cale,
June Days,
Black Moon,
CMW,
Yazoo,
Easy Going,
Lou Christie,
Niagra,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Rundgren,
Moss Icon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dead C,
Mars,
Newcleus,
Royal Trux,
Tubeway Army,
Nico,
ABBA,
The Cramps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cameo,
Barrington Levy,
The Golliwogs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marvin Gaye,
Mad Mike,
Second Layer,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Ituana,
Pantytec,
Erasure,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.