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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 E-Dancer to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
Bobby Byrd,
Moby Grape,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Knickerbockers,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Martian,
F. McDonald,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
David Bowie,
Slave,
Sarah Menescal,
The Grass Roots,
Man Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Scratch Acid,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party,
X-102,
The Beau Brummels,
Fat Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
Make Up,
Dawn Penn,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Cale,
K-Klass,
Lightning Bolt,
The Raincoats,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
JFA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Trumans Water,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
AZ,
These Immortal Souls,
The Invisible,
Joey Negro,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brothers Johnson,
The Zeros,
Jandek,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.