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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Depeche Mode to the electroclash 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Sherman,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
Ice-T,
48th St. Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Talk Talk,
The Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
Cybotron,
Ludus,
The Cramps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Steve Hackett,
Freddie Wadling,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Young Rascals,
Simply Red,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Style,
FM Einheit,
Funkadelic,
The Slackers,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
X-101,
The Leaves,
Boredoms,
Pole,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Graham Central Station,
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fat Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
Chris Corsano,
Pere Ubu,
Roy Ayers,
Cecil Taylor,
Massinfluence,
Cheater Slicks,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.