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 Niger and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
New Age Steppers,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
The Buckinghams,
Sun Ra,
Eddi Front,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Teasers,
The Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Christie,
Skaos,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
Lalann,
Kerrie Biddell,
Juan Atkins,
Sound Behaviour,
the Normal,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monks,
E-Dancer,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kurtis Blow,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Rundgren,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Ten City,
Hardrive,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Görl,
Ronan,
Moss Icon,
The Human League,
Nas,
Oneida,
Kas Product,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.