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 Lebanon and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 Altered Images to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Aswad,
Lou Reed,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
Magazine,
This Heat,
Shoche,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unwound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter and Kerry,
Cymande,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joensuu 1685,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
A Certain Ratio,
Bronski Beat,
R.M.O.,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Style,
Tomorrow,
The Gories,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Essential Logic,
Robert Hood,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Patti Smith,
10cc,
Saccharine Trust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nirvana,
Cameo,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marvin Gaye,
the Human League,
The Gladiators,
PIL,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.