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 Malta and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Boz Scaggs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
Reagan Youth,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ponytail,
The New Christs,
Flipper,
In Retrospect,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sound,
ABBA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
Man Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Womack,
The Doors,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Desert Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
New Age Steppers,
Echospace,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
Stockholm Monsters,
Technova,
Liliput,
Rod Modell,
F. McDonald,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Guru Guru,
Porter Ricks,
Sound Behaviour,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joe Smooth,
Jerry's Kids,
Pere Ubu,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.