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 Iceland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Essential Logic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Television,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cramps,
Ornette Coleman,
Tubeway Army,
Goldenarms,
The Modern Lovers,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Josef K,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
The Move,
Sister Nancy,
Fluxion,
Pantytec,
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang of Four,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cluster,
Max Romeo,
Yaz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Simply Red,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
the Normal,
E-Dancer,
The Real Kids,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
Fatback Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rapeman,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott Heron,
Byron Stingily,
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Y Pants,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.