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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Radio Birdman to the techno 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marmalade,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
World's Most,
L. Decosne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Accadde A,
Franke,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Mummies,
New Age Steppers,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Monolake,
Juan Atkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Supertramp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Skarface,
Joyce Sims,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Faraquet,
Theoretical Girls,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lakeside,
The Index,
Wally Richardson,
the Human League,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Neon Judgement,
Delon & Dalcan,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monochrome Set,
The Names,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat,
The Remains,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Görl,
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra,
Shoche,
Pantytec,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.