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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Human League to the dance 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Eric Copeland,
John Holt,
DJ Sneak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Green,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lalann,
Dennis Brown,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Parrish,
Crime,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Theoretical Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cramps,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Half Japanese,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Morten Harket,
The Smoke,
the Soft Cell,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
A Certain Ratio,
The Stooges,
Boogie Down Productions,
K-Klass,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid,
Jandek,
Mission of Burma,
Ossler,
D'Angelo,
Scion,
Carl Craig,
PIL,
Neu!,
The Victims,
Cybotron,
The Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.