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 Bolivia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mars,
Youth Brigade,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacques Brel,
The Associates,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Massinfluence,
DJ Style,
Bill Near,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
R.M.O.,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smoke,
The Happenings,
The Tremeloes,
Royal Trux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scrapy,
Infiniti,
The Busters,
Max Romeo,
Jandek,
Minny Pops,
David McCallum,
Ten City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
Hoover,
World's Most,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
Dorothy Ashby,
Maleditus Sound,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
The Dirtbombs,
Tim Buckley,
The Fire Engines,
Japan,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.