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 Argentina and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Echospace to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
Saccharine Trust,
John Holt,
Sixth Finger,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Inner City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Theoretical Girls,
Davy DMX,
the Soft Cell,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lyres,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Real Kids,
New York Dolls,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
Lower 48,
Letta Mbulu,
Glenn Branca,
Amazonics,
The Toasters,
Warsaw,
Outsiders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Reed,
Joey Negro,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Traffic Nightmare,
Patti Smith,
Trumans Water,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Red Krayola,
Boz Scaggs,
Lucky Dragons,
Sarah Menescal,
B.T. Express,
Babytalk,
Hoover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Can,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eddi Front,
Dawn Penn,
Vainqueur,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.