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 Zimbabwe and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Eric Dolphy to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
Kayak,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Soft Cell,
World's Most,
Mark Hollis,
The Remains,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sight & Sound,
Audionom,
LL Cool J,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Massinfluence,
Excepter,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Lyres,
Matthew Halsall,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doors,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neu!,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
Model 500,
X-Ray Spex,
The Techniques,
the Normal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scientists,
Chrome,
Youth Brigade,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kas Product,
Gang of Four,
Wire,
Susan Cadogan,
Underground Resistance,
Kenny Larkin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Last Poets,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.