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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk 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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers 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?
Connie Case,
Ituana,
The Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Hill,
DJ Sneak,
The Techniques,
The Moody Blues,
Los Fastidios,
Warsaw,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dead C,
Sällskapet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jawbox,
The Blackbyrds,
Second Layer,
kango's stein massive,
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
The Zeros,
Steve Hackett,
The Detroit Cobras,
Smog,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aaron Thompson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Matthew Bourne,
David Axelrod,
The Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Barry Ungar,
Parry Music,
Dennis Brown,
Spandau Ballet,
Banda Bassotti,
Yazoo,
F. McDonald,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-101,
The Raincoats,
Guru Guru,
The Kinks,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eli Mardock,
Ralphi Rosario,
CMW,
Neil Young,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scrapy,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Tres Demented,
Archie Shepp,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.