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 Bolivia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Albert Ayler,
Whodini,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
The Moleskins,
Radio Birdman,
The Moody Blues,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
Blossom Toes,
Ossler,
Japan,
David McCallum,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Metal Thangz,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon,
Q65,
Matthew Bourne,
Todd Terry,
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dennis Brown,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
Heaven 17,
Chris Corsano,
Scientists,
The Skatalites,
The Litter,
Goldenarms,
The Blues Magoos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
Bush Tetras,
L. Decosne,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
New Age Steppers,
Depeche Mode,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Bar-Kays,
David Axelrod,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minor Threat,
Sex Pistols,
Thee Headcoats,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.