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 Tuvalu and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Isaac Hayes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nico,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Zapp,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Patti Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Donald Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
John Foxx,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Real Kids,
Essential Logic,
Idris Muhammad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Happenings,
The Shadows of Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Simply Red,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
Brick,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
the Association,
Skaos,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Brand Nubian,
The American Breed,
The Gun Club,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Terry,
Faust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Pus,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.