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 Gabon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Ten City to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
James White and The Blacks,
the Germs,
the Human League,
Blancmange,
The Gories,
The Dead C,
Porter Ricks,
Buzzcocks,
Black Sheep,
Godley & Creme,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Green,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
Lower 48,
Arthur Verocai,
Bad Manners,
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Danielle Patucci,
Magma,
Reuben Wilson,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dirtbombs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Starr,
Derrick May,
Negative Approach,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moleskins,
Stiv Bators,
Joe Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Von Mondo,
John Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Talk Talk,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.