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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Durutti Column to the crunk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Procol Harum,
The Fuzztones,
Nas,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
John Holt,
Angry Samoans,
Minnie Riperton,
John Cale,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Country Teasers,
The Wake,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
8 Eyed Spy,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Wells,
Scion,
Letta Mbulu,
the Soft Cell,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
The Victims,
Average White Band,
Soul II Soul,
Barbara Tucker,
Hoover,
Outsiders,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Pus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James White and The Blacks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Dave Gahan,
The Stooges,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.