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 Marshall Islands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
Television,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Index,
Popol Vuh,
John Foxx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gichy Dan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxy Music,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doors,
Chris Corsano,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unrelated Segments,
Accadde A,
X-102,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Sonics,
Scott Walker,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
Isaac Hayes,
Marmalade,
Colin Newman,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
Neu!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marvin Gaye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blues Magoos,
Morten Harket,
Mars,
Stereo Dub,
The Trojans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Charles Mingus,
New York Dolls,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.