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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bronski Beat 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Scion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kaleidoscope,
Subhumans,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
The Evens,
The Moleskins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Amon Düül II,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
OOIOO,
The Monks,
The Motions,
Second Layer,
Country Teasers,
DNA,
ABC,
Tubeway Army,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide,
Gong,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MC5,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
Drexciya,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Count Five,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Ponytail,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Panda Bear,
The Associates,
Wings,
Kevin Saunderson,
DJ Style,
Fat Boys,
Nirvana,
June of 44,
The American Breed,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
Yaz,
Tres Demented,
Hardrive,
Bronski Beat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.