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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Depeche Mode,
Wally Richardson,
U.S. Maple,
Ludus,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
The Toasters,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
JFA,
The Mojo Men,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
the Swans,
Bobby Womack,
X-Ray Spex,
Boz Scaggs,
CMW,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
MDC,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nils Olav,
Los Fastidios,
Dark Day,
Hashim,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
Bill Wells,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül,
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moleskins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Television Personalities,
Rufus Thomas,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Man Parrish,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Danielle Patucci,
Maurizio,
Joe Finger,
Agent Orange,
Magma,
Rites of Spring,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.