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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Deepchord to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Blancmange,
Traffic Nightmare,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharoah Sanders,
Silicon Teens,
Scrapy,
The Last Poets,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bauhaus,
David Axelrod,
John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
LL Cool J,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Smog,
Sparks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Albert Ayler,
Easy Going,
Slave,
The Zeros,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
Minny Pops,
Gang of Four,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
Arab on Radar,
Skaos,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hardrive,
The Busters,
Erykah Badu,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
AZ,
The Gap Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Seeds,
Ituana,
Outsiders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
Godley & Creme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pantaleimon,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.