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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Jeff Mills to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Görl,
Eden Ahbez,
Patti Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Thompson Twins,
X-102,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crooked Eye,
Chris & Cosey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Interpol,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Hill,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skaos,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks,
The Slackers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Todd Terry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
The Fugs,
The Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
Newcleus,
Average White Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Chrome,
Vainqueur,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.