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 Eritrea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Bananas,
The Angels of Light,
Model 500,
Anakelly,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
The Motions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultra Naté,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Hill,
Silicon Teens,
Faust,
Don Cherry,
Metal Thangz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hardrive,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
The Doobie Brothers,
DNA,
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
cv313,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sällskapet,
The Fuzztones,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oneida,
Icehouse,
Swell Maps,
Moebius,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Little Man,
The Sound,
Scan 7,
Maleditus Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.