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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Funky Four + One to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Zeros,
Sound Behaviour,
Scott Walker,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Royal Trux,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Real Kids,
KRS-One,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
Little Man,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Hood,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
Technova,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
Slick Rick,
Tubeway Army,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Move,
Yusef Lateef,
Sam Rivers,
Scan 7,
Soul II Soul,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tomorrow,
Section 25,
JFA,
Urselle,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Qualms,
The Busters,
The Cure,
Barrington Levy,
The Last Poets,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
The Mojo Men,
Wolf Eyes,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.