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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Visage to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Saints,
Charles Mingus,
B.T. Express,
Y Pants,
Faust,
The Gun Club,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Animal Collective,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
Liliput,
The Buckinghams,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Bauhaus,
Gong,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anakelly,
Minnie Riperton,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Busters,
World's Most,
Talk Talk,
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Flag,
The Evens,
Blancmange,
David McCallum,
Lalo Schifrin,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
Albert Ayler,
Buzzcocks,
Brick,
Little Man,
New Order,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.