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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Electric Prunes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Martian,
The Slackers,
Bauhaus,
Depeche Mode,
Boredoms,
Technova,
the Human League,
Ten City,
Harmonia,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Certain Ratio,
Piero Umiliani,
Theoretical Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Organ,
the Association,
Von Mondo,
Kaleidoscope,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Godley & Creme,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Sherman,
Model 500,
Neil Young,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare,
The Barracudas,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Bang On A Can,
The Leaves,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
Siglo XX,
Gabor Szabo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eddi Front,
Morten Harket,
Joy Division,
Niagra,
Sixth Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gap Band,
Barry Ungar,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.