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 Belgium and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faust to the rap 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Nick Fraelich,
K-Klass,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter & Gordon,
The Velvet Underground,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reagan Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
the Bar-Kays,
Davy DMX,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
Moebius,
Subhumans,
Angry Samoans,
Joy Division,
The Slackers,
Michelle Simonal,
Carl Craig,
Sarah Menescal,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Wells,
Donny Hathaway,
A Certain Ratio,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Althea and Donna,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Liliput,
The Sound,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
Josef K,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Unwound,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doors,
The Wake,
Wasted Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.