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 Mauritania and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 The Angels of Light to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Cymande,
Dawn Penn,
The Raincoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang of Four,
48th St. Collective,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Fela Kuti,
Jandek,
Hashim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter & Gordon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sight & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Mandrill,
The Vogues,
The Standells,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
The Real Kids,
Gang Green,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül II,
X-101,
Bobby Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gories,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Colin Newman,
Slave,
Marmalade,
John Cale,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Dolphy,
Cameo,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick May,
The Barracudas,
The Beau Brummels,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Alice Coltrane,
The Monks,
Newcleus,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
The Mojo Men,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.