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 Burundi and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 kango's stein massive to the dance 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Grey Daturas,
Porter Ricks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
The Associates,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New York Dolls,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
Warren Ellis,
The Music Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
JFA,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
Ludus,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slits,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Sneak,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
Davy DMX,
Oblivians,
Qualms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
10cc,
New Age Steppers,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joey Negro,
Aswad,
The Kinks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dawn Penn,
The Dead C,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U,
OOIOO,
Boredoms,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.