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 Sweden and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rhythm & Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül,
Shuggie Otis,
Anthony Braxton,
The Human League,
Alton Ellis,
The Stooges,
The Grass Roots,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dead Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thompson Twins,
The Star Department,
the Association,
Negative Approach,
Lalann,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eddi Front,
Inner City,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
Freddie Wadling,
Unwound,
Sex Pistols,
T. Rex,
Johnny Clarke,
Minnie Riperton,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
Gichy Dan,
Mars,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
Kayak,
Arthur Verocai,
Stetsasonic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scion,
The Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Basic Channel,
The Mojo Men,
The Pretty Things,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.