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 St Lucia 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Howard Jones to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Smooth,
Motorama,
Charles Mingus,
Eden Ahbez,
Gregory Isaacs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Todd Rundgren,
Jandek,
The Doors,
Deakin,
Zero Boys,
New Order,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang On A Can,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Wolf Eyes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Visage,
Blancmange,
the Slits,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
Second Layer,
Spandau Ballet,
Lindisfarne,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
Gang Starr,
Dead Boys,
B.T. Express,
Amon Düül,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacob Miller,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monochrome Set,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
Mandrill,
Tim Buckley,
The Moody Blues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.