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 Cambodia and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Chris Corsano to the techno 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Visage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Janne Schatter,
David Bowie,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cure,
Wings,
Scion,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
Alison Limerick,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
Dark Day,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deakin,
The American Breed,
Deepchord,
The Human League,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Laurel Aitken,
The Happenings,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fad Gadget,
The Seeds,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
Mantronix,
Simply Red,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Dolphy,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans,
Groovy Waters,
Anakelly,
Gang of Four,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alphaville,
Tommy Roe,
Marvin Gaye,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.