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 Singapore and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Make Up to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
Crooked Eye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
The Invisible,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxette,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
ABC,
Guru Guru,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marvin Gaye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
Das Ding,
Arthur Verocai,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kaleidoscope,
OOIOO,
Dark Day,
AZ,
Underground Resistance,
Alice Coltrane,
Y Pants,
Bobby Byrd,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
Subhumans,
Joy Division,
Shuggie Otis,
The Remains,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monks,
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Zero Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Arab on Radar,
Circle Jerks,
Black Sheep,
a-ha,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.