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 Liberia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Derrick Morgan to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quadrant,
The Slackers,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fugs,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Cal Tjader,
Hot Snakes,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Oneida,
Von Mondo,
Howard Jones,
Depeche Mode,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
Audionom,
Faraquet,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
Lindisfarne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lucky Dragons,
Accadde A,
PIL,
Ituana,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Modern Lovers,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Aswad,
Qualms,
the Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
The Victims,
Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Amazonics,
Warsaw,
Bill Near,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABBA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.