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 Antigua and from London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 EPMD to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
The Monochrome Set,
Babytalk,
The Moody Blues,
Supertramp,
These Immortal Souls,
Ludus,
Index,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Flag,
Jacques Brel,
Ronnie Foster,
Hardrive,
A Certain Ratio,
Pulsallama,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
David Axelrod,
OOIOO,
Electric Prunes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Reagan Youth,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide,
Eddi Front,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brothers Johnson,
Ituana,
Darondo,
Brand Nubian,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tom Boy,
Eric Copeland,
John Coltrane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Fall,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
The Sound,
The Gap Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul Sonic Force,
Franke,
Basic Channel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Offenders,
Loose Ends,
Rhythm & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Trumans Water,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.