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 Madagascar and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxette,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joyce Sims,
Slave,
Scratch Acid,
Con Funk Shun,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott Heron,
Derrick May,
The Martian,
Aural Exciters,
Absolute Body Control,
Faraquet,
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
Ohio Players,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
Negative Approach,
Skriet,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DNA,
Funky Four + One,
The United States of America,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Wings,
Theoretical Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Chris Corsano,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
Bad Manners,
Los Fastidios,
Soul II Soul,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
The Standells,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shuggie Otis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Danielle Patucci,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
June Days,
Surgeon,
Robert Görl,
Arab on Radar,
Oblivians,
Wire,
Bush Tetras,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.