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 Ethiopia and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 Zero Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Judy Mowatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Slits,
Soft Cell,
Brick,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Steve Hackett,
Talk Talk,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Matthew Halsall,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Panda Bear,
David McCallum,
Pierre Henry,
Shoche,
Gong,
Dead Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn,
Ken Boothe,
Rotary Connection,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
Icehouse,
Rosa Yemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
10cc,
Nick Fraelich,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Wasted Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Trumans Water,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Tears for Fears,
Yusef Lateef,
Minutemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donald Byrd,
Scion,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fire Engines,
Gang of Four,
Banda Bassotti,
John Foxx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.