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 Seychelles and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Dead C to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode 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 electroclash 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
The Techniques,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pop Group,
Pere Ubu,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Hasil Adkins,
Smog,
Aswad,
The Moody Blues,
The J.B.'s,
The Dave Clark Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unrelated Segments,
Marine Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
Peter and Kerry,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minor Threat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Grey Daturas,
Connie Case,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
Main Source,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bush Tetras,
The American Breed,
Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
kango's stein massive,
Juan Atkins,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.