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 Burkina and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 Susan Cadogan to the dance 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Grey Daturas,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Sneak,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Glenn Branca,
The Motions,
Niagra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Unrelated Segments,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Darondo,
Pere Ubu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Pus,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joy Division,
Reagan Youth,
The Happenings,
Quadrant,
Maurizio,
The Selecter,
Franke,
Mark Hollis,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
Wally Richardson,
John Coltrane,
Malaria!,
X-Ray Spex,
Motorama,
Pharoah Sanders,
Khruangbin,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
Joe Finger,
Loose Ends,
The Searchers,
The Litter,
Harmonia,
Letta Mbulu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.