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 Ireland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Junior Murvin,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smoke,
the Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerri Chandler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispian St. Peters,
MC5,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Zeros,
Rotary Connection,
Scion,
Lakeside,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
Loose Ends,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Deepchord,
Trumans Water,
Stiv Bators,
K-Klass,
Angry Samoans,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
Laurel Aitken,
Quantec,
Bobby Byrd,
Depeche Mode,
Don Cherry,
Dave Gahan,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris & Cosey,
Slick Rick,
Erykah Badu,
These Immortal Souls,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
Sixth Finger,
Unwound,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joe Finger,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Fear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scan 7,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Pus,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.