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 Fiji and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Maleditus Sound to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
Deadbeat,
Franke,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Ituana,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
Marine Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quadrant,
Unwound,
World's Most,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
The Invisible,
Ossler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jandek,
ABC,
Das Ding,
Dave Gahan,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Khruangbin,
Second Layer,
10cc,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cramps,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ken Boothe,
Brick,
Derrick Morgan,
Alison Limerick,
8 Eyed Spy,
FM Einheit,
The Count Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Zeros,
Joensuu 1685,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.