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 Niger and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pylon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Duran Duran,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Khruangbin,
the Human League,
The Motions,
Max Romeo,
The Monochrome Set,
Kurtis Blow,
Wolf Eyes,
Scott Walker,
Moby Grape,
Harpers Bizarre,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mummies,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Sherman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
The Count Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Wasted Youth,
The Fall,
Dave Gahan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Crime,
The Victims,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Technova,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Flash Fearless,
Black Bananas,
The Names,
The Smiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun City Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dead Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Sparks,
Schoolly D,
Quantec,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.