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 Malawi and from London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Zero Boys to the funk 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Ronan,
Can,
Cymande,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Almond,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
Accadde A,
Lower 48,
The Offenders,
MDC,
Deakin,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Letta Mbulu,
Grauzone,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reuben Wilson,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rites of Spring,
Jacob Miller,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
the Swans,
Audionom,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
Moss Icon,
Pierre Henry,
Talk Talk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Public Enemy,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Todd Rundgren,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Susan Cadogan,
Dave Gahan,
Althea and Donna,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
Barbara Tucker,
Barry Ungar,
Morten Harket,
Gang Starr,
The Martian,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.