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 Korea South and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Glambeats Corp. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Bauhaus,
Television Personalities,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Parrish,
Erykah Badu,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Blake Baxter,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scrapy,
Yaz,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Ludus,
The Techniques,
Lightning Bolt,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
The Happenings,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nirvana,
Supertramp,
Surgeon,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
Index,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Cymande,
Talk Talk,
Smog,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kayak,
The Martian,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Leaves,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blossom Toes,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.