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 Slovakia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the electroclash 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
Bush Tetras,
Harry Pussy,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
The Stooges,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
Graham Central Station,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boz Scaggs,
China Crisis,
Robert Görl,
Mantronix,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
K-Klass,
The Monks,
Interpol,
The Cowsills,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cure,
Fat Boys,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
The Gories,
Sällskapet,
Rod Modell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
the Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits,
Wire,
The Residents,
The Dirtbombs,
Clear Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Danielle Patucci,
FM Einheit,
Charles Mingus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.