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 Namibia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Groovy Waters,
Yellowson,
Sällskapet,
The Real Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cramps,
Buzzcocks,
Popol Vuh,
The Birthday Party,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Camberwell Now,
Cluster,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
One Last Wish,
U.S. Maple,
Glenn Branca,
Nico,
Gastr Del Sol,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
The Five Americans,
Hashim,
The Index,
The Moleskins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Godley & Creme,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radio Birdman,
Tim Buckley,
The Velvet Underground,
the Association,
F. McDonald,
Skaos,
Bronski Beat,
PIL,
The Moody Blues,
Zapp,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blancmange,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Rites of Spring,
In Retrospect,
Leonard Cohen,
The Offenders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kurtis Blow,
Dave Gahan,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.