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 Jordan and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tommy Roe to the dance 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
Yellowson,
Blossom Toes,
The Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
B.T. Express,
Rites of Spring,
EPMD,
a-ha,
Nation of Ulysses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brand Nubian,
Animal Collective,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Accadde A,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
The Divine Comedy,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
Silicon Teens,
Gabor Szabo,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythm & Sound,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
The Modern Lovers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ponytail,
The Wake,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soul II Soul,
The Gun Club,
Hot Snakes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kenny Larkin,
The Neon Judgement,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
The Mummies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.