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 Mexico and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Nirvana to the disco 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Vogues,
Fear,
Monks,
Quando Quango,
In Retrospect,
Banda Bassotti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Wolf Eyes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scrapy,
Roger Hodgson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
Siglo XX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Christie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
Schoolly D,
Young Marble Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Cameo,
Little Man,
EPMD,
Reagan Youth,
JFA,
Michelle Simonal,
Clear Light,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
E-Dancer,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
John Cale,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.