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 Belgium and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Throbbing Gristle to the electroclash 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxette,
Goldenarms,
Spandau Ballet,
The Angels of Light,
L. Decosne,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New Age Steppers,
The Invisible,
John Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Reuben Wilson,
Archie Shepp,
Donny Hathaway,
A Certain Ratio,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Mars,
This Heat,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
The Standells,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Minutemen,
Nils Olav,
Pet Shop Boys,
10cc,
Massinfluence,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slits,
Man Parrish,
Brick,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
The Monochrome Set,
The Real Kids,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.