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 Congo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Los Fastidios to the crunk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Monolake,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Gang Starr,
DJ Style,
Suicide,
Niagra,
Black Pus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultra Naté,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiohead,
The Evens,
X-101,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
New Age Steppers,
Harmonia,
The Moody Blues,
LL Cool J,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Green,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
the Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
The Move,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Fraelich,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Real Kids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mr. Review,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
David McCallum,
DNA,
Young Marble Giants,
Prince Buster,
The Sonics,
Colin Newman,
The Cramps,
The Busters,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.