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 Bangladesh 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Royal Trux to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Clarke,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Essential Logic,
New York Dolls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Panda Bear,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sonics,
The Standells,
Iggy Pop,
Arcadia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Loose Ends,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Symarip,
Swell Maps,
Blossom Toes,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Flag,
Severed Heads,
The Gladiators,
Marmalade,
PIL,
Kayak,
Simply Red,
Vladislav Delay,
Bob Dylan,
Ronnie Foster,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Lakeside,
Con Funk Shun,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
kango's stein massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ponytail,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Rod Modell,
Khruangbin,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.