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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 the Slits to the funk 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
Gong,
Surgeon,
Underground Resistance,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eden Ahbez,
Mad Mike,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Hood,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Soulsonic Force,
Q65,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Severed Heads,
Warren Ellis,
The Offenders,
Quantec,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Divine Comedy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Real Kids,
Index,
The New Christs,
Lou Christie,
Scrapy,
Suburban Knight,
Pole,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
Nico,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scott Walker,
The Gun Club,
The Fugs,
The Music Machine,
Tommy Roe,
New Order,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
The Birthday Party,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shuggie Otis,
Bluetip,
The Happenings,
Donald Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eddi Front,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.