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 Suriname and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 Zeros 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
the Normal,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Duran Duran,
The Music Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
Sixth Finger,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Khruangbin,
Make Up,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soulsonic Force,
Max Romeo,
Funky Four + One,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
The Moleskins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Eli Mardock,
The Dead C,
Arcadia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yaz,
Cheater Slicks,
Dave Gahan,
Porter Ricks,
The J.B.'s,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
Robert Görl,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mad Mike,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
the Swans,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül II,
Newcleus,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
Schoolly D,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.