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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 FM Einheit to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mark Hollis,
Janne Schatter,
Erykah Badu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Con Funk Shun,
Wings,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kurtis Blow,
Suburban Knight,
ABC,
CMW,
Don Cherry,
Eurythmics,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
Crash Course in Science,
Bluetip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alphaville,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Popol Vuh,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monolake,
the Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Judy Mowatt,
T.S.O.L.,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Terry,
Crooked Eye,
One Last Wish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cheater Slicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.