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 Brazil and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 The Gap Band to the techno 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Saints,
Suicide,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
the Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed,
Sister Nancy,
Altered Images,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
Outsiders,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne,
The Residents,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Darondo,
Marc Almond,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nirvana,
The Evens,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
L. Decosne,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cal Tjader,
Camberwell Now,
Kool Moe Dee,
DNA,
The Mummies,
Arab on Radar,
The Searchers,
Surgeon,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
Little Man,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
F. McDonald,
Gabor Szabo,
Anakelly,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.