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 Ukraine and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Make Up,
Echospace,
Parry Music,
Mo-Dettes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Kinks,
The Knickerbockers,
Bad Manners,
Leonard Cohen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arcadia,
Brothers Johnson,
Eli Mardock,
Rotary Connection,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drexciya,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
Jandek,
Malaria!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantytec,
MDC,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine,
Basic Channel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wings,
John Coltrane,
Audionom,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
Buzzcocks,
Gong,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
Metal Thangz,
JFA,
Visage,
Kayak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Stiv Bators,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Evens,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
Arab on Radar,
ABBA,
The United States of America,
Pussy Galore,
Sister Nancy,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.