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 Russia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Sheep to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish 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?
The Vogues,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
James White and The Blacks,
The Saints,
Cheater Slicks,
the Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Cameo,
Newcleus,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aural Exciters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Hasil Adkins,
Eve St. Jones,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
New Age Steppers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tomorrow,
Joensuu 1685,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
the Association,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Almond,
Au Pairs,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Ralphi Rosario,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bush Tetras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minny Pops,
Metal Thangz,
The Wake,
the Slits,
Camberwell Now,
Gang Starr,
AZ,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
48th St. Collective,
Index,
Pussy Galore,
ABBA,
Supertramp,
Cecil Taylor,
U.S. Maple,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.