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 Haiti and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Soft Cell to the grime 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Roger Hodgson,
Marvin Gaye,
a-ha,
Bill Near,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slits,
Monolake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul II Soul,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultra Naté,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
Guru Guru,
Barrington Levy,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The American Breed,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
Chrome,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nils Olav,
These Immortal Souls,
Chris & Cosey,
Siglo XX,
Deadbeat,
Television Personalities,
La Düsseldorf,
Ponytail,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Fad Gadget,
The Black Dice,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Massinfluence,
Nas,
LL Cool J,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.