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 San Marino and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 This Heat to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
Roxette,
Marine Girls,
Organ,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Dave Gahan,
New Order,
Fatback Band,
Sandy B,
UT,
The Fortunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
10cc,
Gong,
Glenn Branca,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Underground Resistance,
Black Sheep,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Model 500,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
Deakin,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Copeland,
Magma,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Second Layer,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
The Litter,
Supertramp,
Donny Hathaway,
Stetsasonic,
Mission of Burma,
Sällskapet,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Motorama,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Tommy Roe,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
The Selecter,
Idris Muhammad,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
The Fire Engines,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.