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 Greece and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Fortunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harmonia,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Depeche Mode,
Ice-T,
The Toasters,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Starr,
Deepchord,
Marcia Griffiths,
Au Pairs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tears for Fears,
The Blackbyrds,
Donny Hathaway,
Skriet,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q65,
Interpol,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
Cluster,
Henry Cow,
Das Ding,
the Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wire,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suicide,
Spandau Ballet,
Ralphi Rosario,
UT,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
New Order,
X-101,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.