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 Egypt and from London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grime 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Alphaville,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
FM Einheit,
The Dead C,
Yellowson,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alison Limerick,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Inner City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Association,
Morten Harket,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Pole,
The Invisible,
B.T. Express,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joyce Sims,
Toni Rubio,
Eden Ahbez,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultra Naté,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Maleditus Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Frankie Knuckles,
Howard Jones,
Ten City,
Minutemen,
The Golliwogs,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Sugar Minott,
Deepchord,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mad Mike,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.