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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kenny Larkin to the dance 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The Victims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
Stiv Bators,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Howard Jones,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Christie,
Archie Shepp,
Fluxion,
Bang On A Can,
X-102,
Easy Going,
Kerri Chandler,
David McCallum,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Standells,
Camberwell Now,
China Crisis,
The Mummies,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
X-101,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
Camouflage,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deakin,
Skarface,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Swans,
Newcleus,
Lucky Dragons,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
The Monochrome Set,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Khruangbin,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Eli Mardock,
Sparks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Popol Vuh,
The Associates,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.