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 the UAE and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Black Bananas to the crunk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
Mantronix,
Jacob Miller,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bootsy Collins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
These Immortal Souls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cybotron,
10cc,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Unrelated Segments,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
Max Romeo,
Stetsasonic,
Blancmange,
Country Teasers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mummies,
Fugazi,
48th St. Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Davy DMX,
Essential Logic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Black Dice,
Reuben Wilson,
Rotary Connection,
The J.B.'s,
Hashim,
The Slits,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.