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 Slovakia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Negative Approach to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Soul II Soul,
Spoonie Gee,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
Bang On A Can,
Skarface,
Shoche,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Half Japanese,
Joy Division,
Josef K,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Teasers,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
Rapeman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Goldenarms,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Ituana,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
Black Moon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Groovy Waters,
Bauhaus,
World's Most,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Vainqueur,
Carl Craig,
Steve Hackett,
Maleditus Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fugazi,
Junior Murvin,
Cluster,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
Arthur Verocai,
Slick Rick,
Intrusion,
The Music Machine,
John Lydon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.