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 Romania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 The Leaves to the electroclash 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Clear Light,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
Anakelly,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
Prince Buster,
Wire,
DJ Sneak,
Little Man,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
Letta Mbulu,
Quadrant,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
Robert Görl,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
Section 25,
Marc Almond,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Zapp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
The United States of America,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Godley & Creme,
Ohio Players,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alison Limerick,
Hasil Adkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.