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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Infiniti to the electroclash 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Ronan,
The Misunderstood,
John Holt,
Monks,
Moss Icon,
Tom Boy,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minny Pops,
The Dave Clark Five,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Lou Christie,
Dual Sessions,
Leonard Cohen,
John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Stiv Bators,
Lightning Bolt,
Tommy Roe,
Tears for Fears,
Silicon Teens,
Loose Ends,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
The American Breed,
Radiopuhelimet,
Inner City,
The Names,
Arthur Verocai,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
a-ha,
Bad Manners,
Intrusion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Urselle,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Essential Logic,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.