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 United States and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-101 to the punk 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Raincoats,
Sun City Girls,
X-101,
Faraquet,
The Doors,
Skriet,
Marine Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Can,
Connie Case,
UT,
Robert Wyatt,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
Swell Maps,
This Heat,
Joy Division,
The Fall,
Kaleidoscope,
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Leaves,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Anthony Braxton,
Section 25,
The Young Rascals,
Yazoo,
Ronnie Foster,
Scion,
the Slits,
The Dead C,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Offenders,
Neil Young,
In Retrospect,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Clarke,
Simply Red,
Dave Gahan,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Iggy Pop,
Mad Mike,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hardrive,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.