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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nils Olav to the crunk 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sällskapet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Erasure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maurizio,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Heaven 17,
Severed Heads,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Technova,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Order,
Echospace,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Nico,
Depeche Mode,
Porter Ricks,
June of 44,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
the Human League,
The Motions,
Aaron Thompson,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang of Four,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
Johnny Clarke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Excepter,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Malaria!,
Boz Scaggs,
the Slits,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.