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 Mauritius and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Evens to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
The Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Barry Ungar,
Fat Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ossler,
Crash Course in Science,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yaz,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
World's Most,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
The Evens,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Bourne,
Albert Ayler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Duran Duran,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Gang Dance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visage,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moody Blues,
U.S. Maple,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pussy Galore,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moby Grape,
Man Eating Sloth,
Steve Hackett,
Inner City,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.