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 United States and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
DNA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Procol Harum,
Royal Trux,
The Music Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Spoonie Gee,
Rapeman,
The Motions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Magazine,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mummies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hoover,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül,
Camberwell Now,
John Coltrane,
This Heat,
The Blackbyrds,
Josef K,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
Los Fastidios,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unrelated Segments,
Mission of Burma,
Duran Duran,
T. Rex,
Bronski Beat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Clear Light,
Yaz,
Camouflage,
Harmonia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Arcadia,
MDC,
New York Dolls,
Derrick May,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.