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 Poland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swell Maps to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
The J.B.'s,
The Star Department,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
Alison Limerick,
The Angels of Light,
Minor Threat,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Groovy Waters,
Faraquet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Al Stewart,
UT,
Bill Wells,
Throbbing Gristle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Basic Channel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Scientists,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brick,
MC5,
Niagra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxy Music,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Blossom Toes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gun Club,
Ossler,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds,
Jawbox,
The Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Rotary Connection,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.