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 Congo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
The Young Rascals,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Interpol,
Roxette,
Alice Coltrane,
PIL,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker,
Livin' Joy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Prince Buster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Busters,
Avey Tare,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Morten Harket,
Los Fastidios,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brand Nubian,
Gong,
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Talk Talk,
Mars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deepchord,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
La Düsseldorf,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Sarah Menescal,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wally Richardson,
The Neon Judgement,
The Leaves,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Moon,
John Foxx,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.