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 Niger and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dave Gahan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drexciya,
The Fall,
Black Bananas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
The Barracudas,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
Gong,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
the Germs,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
Roxy Music,
Nils Olav,
Harmonia,
Make Up,
Swell Maps,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Cymande,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mission of Burma,
Symarip,
Popol Vuh,
Crime,
Sun Ra,
Wings,
Severed Heads,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
Leonard Cohen,
Liliput,
Marmalade,
Joensuu 1685,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
Rites of Spring,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Technova,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.