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 Montenegro and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Arab on Radar to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
Moby Grape,
Charles Mingus,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David McCallum,
Joyce Sims,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
Erykah Badu,
The Tremeloes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Motions,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Dolphy,
Urselle,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Essential Logic,
X-102,
Index,
The Toasters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Morten Harket,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Arcadia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Saints,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
One Last Wish,
John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Moleskins,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.