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 Nicaragua and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the techno 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
Kevin Saunderson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mojo Men,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy Collins,
Jawbox,
Marvin Gaye,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minor Threat,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
The Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Evens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harmonia,
R.M.O.,
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dirtbombs,
Erasure,
Gichy Dan,
Blancmange,
The Buckinghams,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dave Gahan,
the Slits,
Hoover,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fortunes,
Depeche Mode,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Easy Going,
Sarah Menescal,
Mantronix,
The Vogues,
Hashim,
Scott Walker,
Derrick May,
Oblivians,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Move,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Second Layer,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Stetsasonic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.