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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 John Cale to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Bluetip,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick Morgan,
Sexual Harrassment,
DJ Style,
Von Mondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Second Layer,
The Vogues,
Unwound,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Saints,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
China Crisis,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Ten City,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erykah Badu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soul II Soul,
Moss Icon,
Siglo XX,
The Invisible,
Rites of Spring,
Television Personalities,
Rhythm & Sound,
a-ha,
Reagan Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Buzzcocks,
Swell Maps,
Black Sheep,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Visage,
Q and Not U,
AZ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Index,
Eden Ahbez,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monolake,
Zapp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Inner City,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.