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 Equatorial Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Inner City to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
Funkadelic,
John Cale,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
Soft Machine,
John Lydon,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lindisfarne,
Sällskapet,
The Monochrome Set,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mars,
UT,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Negative Approach,
Suicide,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kas Product,
Trumans Water,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sam Rivers,
Little Man,
Carl Craig,
Al Stewart,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
Lungfish,
Theoretical Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siglo XX,
The Walker Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brass Construction,
Jeff Mills,
Byron Stingily,
Underground Resistance,
Mandrill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reagan Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Moss Icon,
Chris Corsano,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.