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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the rap 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Skatalites,
Lou Christie,
Grauzone,
the Normal,
Tim Buckley,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Metal Thangz,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
10cc,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
The Move,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
Tubeway Army,
The Searchers,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gichy Dan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Laurel Aitken,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter,
Babytalk,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
Slave,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
Model 500,
The Alarm Clocks,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Sun City Girls,
In Retrospect,
Tres Demented,
Radiopuhelimet,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
Joyce Sims,
Surgeon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rotary Connection,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.