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 Israel and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anakelly to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
The Mojo Men,
Niagra,
Section 25,
The Mighty Diamonds,
U.S. Maple,
Crime,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Subhumans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
The Buckinghams,
Nirvana,
Funkadelic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
China Crisis,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
48th St. Collective,
Bronski Beat,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Christie,
Technova,
David Bowie,
Aural Exciters,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
Visage,
Ossler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Traffic Nightmare,
La Düsseldorf,
The Searchers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
Make Up,
Mary Jane Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Neon Judgement,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
Graham Central Station,
Excepter,
Soft Machine,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.