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 France and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Faust,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Darondo,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Pylon,
Agent Orange,
Warsaw,
Lakeside,
Pere Ubu,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
Jacques Brel,
Alice Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
Ten City,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Ice-T,
Ultra Naté,
Mantronix,
Franke,
New Order,
Circle Jerks,
Gong,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Theoretical Girls,
Man Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Green,
Fat Boys,
DJ Style,
Sister Nancy,
June Days,
Delta 5,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Kas Product,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.