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 Benin and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Erasure to the grunge 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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Shoche,
Robert Görl,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Massinfluence,
Y Pants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Kinks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Scratch Acid,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Nik Kershaw,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smiths,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
Supertramp,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Camberwell Now,
Yazoo,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
June Days,
Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skriet,
The Seeds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fear,
Glenn Branca,
the Slits,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
In Retrospect,
Ken Boothe,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Man Parrish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Charles Mingus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed,
Tubeway Army,
Anakelly,
Toni Rubio,
Kenny Larkin,
The Golliwogs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.