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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Malaria! to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
This Heat,
Niagra,
Qualms,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Offenders,
Babytalk,
Letta Mbulu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Kurtis Blow,
the Soft Cell,
Joensuu 1685,
The Victims,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Slave,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
Fat Boys,
Cymande,
Ken Boothe,
Max Romeo,
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
kango's stein massive,
The Zeros,
Wolf Eyes,
Deepchord,
Marvin Gaye,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fad Gadget,
the Sonics,
David Axelrod,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
Alison Limerick,
Jacques Brel,
Dave Gahan,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
Scientists,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Accadde A,
Matthew Halsall,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.