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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Funky Four + One,
Scrapy,
Chrome,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
Man Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Joy Division,
Wasted Youth,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Livin' Joy,
the Bar-Kays,
Skriet,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
Nico,
Royal Trux,
Silicon Teens,
kango's stein massive,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monolake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
The Kinks,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Eli Mardock,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erykah Badu,
Ten City,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Almond,
The Gap Band,
Basic Channel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
John Holt,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
Soul II Soul,
Sugar Minott,
Toni Rubio,
Morten Harket,
Qualms,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Absolute Body Control,
Eddi Front,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.