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 Chad and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Soft Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
Tommy Roe,
Mantronix,
The Cramps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
Erasure,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
the Swans,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Erykah Badu,
Excepter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
Frankie Knuckles,
JFA,
Quantec,
Spandau Ballet,
Urselle,
Sight & Sound,
Jandek,
Danielle Patucci,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cameo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Parry Music,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
Tom Boy,
Aswad,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rhythm & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.