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 Honduras and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the grime 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
JFA,
T.S.O.L.,
Trumans Water,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
Sex Pistols,
Ponytail,
Flamin' Groovies,
Make Up,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Todd Terry,
James White and The Blacks,
Television Personalities,
The Young Rascals,
Scion,
Roy Ayers,
John Foxx,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ohio Players,
Iggy Pop,
Whodini,
The Litter,
Guru Guru,
Second Layer,
Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris Corsano,
Nico,
Sight & Sound,
Oblivians,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fortunes,
Agitation Free,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nirvana,
The Searchers,
Depeche Mode,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Sandy B,
Public Enemy,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun City Girls,
Nas,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nik Kershaw,
Sparks,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.