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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Make Up to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dead Boys,
The Techniques,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heaven 17,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bad Manners,
the Normal,
The Wake,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun City Girls,
48th St. Collective,
The Real Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
Tomorrow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-102,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
Talk Talk,
Junior Murvin,
Moss Icon,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Raincoats,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q65,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ornette Coleman,
Amon Düül II,
The Doors,
Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Motorama,
The Cure,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
Rotary Connection,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sandy B,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Intrusion,
Ultravox,
The Sonics,
Roxette,
Henry Cow,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.