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 United Kingdom and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Infiniti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Green,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rekid,
Joensuu 1685,
Masters at Work,
Echospace,
The Evens,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Procol Harum,
Model 500,
Cluster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Invisible,
The Slits,
ABC,
Public Image Ltd.,
Blossom Toes,
Circle Jerks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
John Cale,
Bluetip,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
The Seeds,
Bill Near,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
Yaz,
Pantytec,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Lynne,
Tommy Roe,
Flipper,
Loose Ends,
Royal Trux,
Dark Day,
Black Moon,
Marmalade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Archie Shepp,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Rotary Connection,
Malaria!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
Fad Gadget,
Warsaw,
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.