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 Belarus and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the funk 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Birthday Party,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
Duran Duran,
FM Einheit,
Heaven 17,
Thompson Twins,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
The Cure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
Rufus Thomas,
Iggy Pop,
Schoolly D,
Fat Boys,
Japan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camouflage,
Laurel Aitken,
DNA,
Lou Christie,
Alphaville,
Matthew Bourne,
Pere Ubu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Supertramp,
The Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Scan 7,
Infiniti,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dead C,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers,
Bob Dylan,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.