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 Brunei and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Whodini 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Masters at Work,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The J.B.'s,
John Foxx,
Lou Christie,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Section 25,
Alton Ellis,
Cluster,
Youth Brigade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
Gong,
Circle Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
Essential Logic,
Young Marble Giants,
a-ha,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erasure,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
Warsaw,
Audionom,
Nirvana,
Cybotron,
Banda Bassotti,
Cymande,
Marc Almond,
Talk Talk,
The Sonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Theoretical Girls,
Unwound,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Hardrive,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.