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 Ecuador and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Accadde A to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
The Seeds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grey Daturas,
The Blues Magoos,
John Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fat Boys,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
This Heat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Talk Talk,
Warren Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
Radio Birdman,
Oblivians,
Blancmange,
Animal Collective,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suicide,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Zapp,
Average White Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Massinfluence,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Almond,
Franke,
Dark Day,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Byron Stingily,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crime,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Evens,
Barry Ungar,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.