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 Yemen and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Young Marble Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
The Offenders,
Index,
Jacques Brel,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cure,
Harmonia,
Symarip,
K-Klass,
The Music Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Spoonie Gee,
The Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Names,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James White and The Blacks,
Tommy Roe,
The Busters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The New Christs,
The Velvet Underground,
Japan,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Lakeside,
Eddi Front,
Little Man,
Kenny Larkin,
B.T. Express,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
The Evens,
Talk Talk,
In Retrospect,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
Chris Corsano,
Skarface,
Basic Channel,
Howard Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Faust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Banda Bassotti,
Funkadelic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Zapp,
Peter and Kerry,
Au Pairs,
Soft Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Mantronix,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cluster,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.