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 Guyana and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the dance 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Barbara Tucker,
Moby Grape,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
Au Pairs,
The Monks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Wells,
Freddie Wadling,
The Modern Lovers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Idris Muhammad,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
Ultra Naté,
The Remains,
John Foxx,
Simply Red,
The Angels of Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mantronix,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
Swans,
Heaven 17,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeff Lynne,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
Warsaw,
Alton Ellis,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.