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 Netherlands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
Qualms,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Fugazi,
Mandrill,
Slave,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül,
Urselle,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
Ken Boothe,
Sun Ra,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Rufus Thomas,
Amazonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alphaville,
The Cure,
Absolute Body Control,
Whodini,
Barclay James Harvest,
David Bowie,
The Shadows of Knight,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Searchers,
the Normal,
The Electric Prunes,
Yusef Lateef,
Nico,
The Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Banda Bassotti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Average White Band,
Kas Product,
Matthew Halsall,
Spandau Ballet,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
Blake Baxter,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.