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 Seychelles and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Buzzcocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
the Association,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sparks,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Funkadelic,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Dave Gahan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Sneak,
H. Thieme,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Sheep,
Piero Umiliani,
John Holt,
Bauhaus,
Inner City,
Eli Mardock,
Zapp,
Chrome,
The Trojans,
The Cramps,
Erasure,
Isaac Hayes,
Josef K,
The Martian,
R.M.O.,
Fear,
Wally Richardson,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Steve Hackett,
Camouflage,
Country Teasers,
Roger Hodgson,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Wake,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
Duran Duran,
Fluxion,
Kas Product,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.