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 Denmark and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Porter Ricks to the dance 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
L. Decosne,
Khruangbin,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yellowson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wings,
The Blues Magoos,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Section 25,
Curtis Mayfield,
In Retrospect,
Severed Heads,
Icehouse,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
Babytalk,
Nico,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
the Association,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
Easy Going,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Order,
Young Marble Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Dark Day,
Excepter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Colin Newman,
Television Personalities,
Swell Maps,
Black Pus,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Index,
Marmalade,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.