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 Nicaragua and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spoonie Gee to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Ultravox,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Beau Brummels,
Zapp,
10cc,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Graham Central Station,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Standells,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reagan Youth,
The Raincoats,
John Cale,
Idris Muhammad,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
T. Rex,
Tubeway Army,
Godley & Creme,
Slave,
Drive Like Jehu,
48th St. Collective,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Anthony Braxton,
Organ,
Gong,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Quantec,
Von Mondo,
Amon Düül,
Soft Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sällskapet,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
Silicon Teens,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.