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 Canada and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Erasure to the electroclash 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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
LL Cool J,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Franke,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
The Litter,
John Cale,
Robert Wyatt,
Moss Icon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Procol Harum,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fat Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mo-Dettes,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Scan 7,
Audionom,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sister Nancy,
Anthony Braxton,
Matthew Bourne,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
This Heat,
Jandek,
Bill Wells,
Dave Gahan,
The Divine Comedy,
Yellowson,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
Judy Mowatt,
Alice Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.