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 Bulgaria and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cluster to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Ten City,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Graham Central Station,
Interpol,
cv313,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Little Man,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Schoolly D,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Motorama,
Pole,
Eric B and Rakim,
Panda Bear,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Ossler,
Erykah Badu,
Q65,
48th St. Collective,
Magazine,
Cymande,
Fad Gadget,
The Offenders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smiths,
KRS-One,
Roxette,
Albert Ayler,
Yazoo,
Quantec,
The Invisible,
Deakin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cameo,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxy Music,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Althea and Donna,
Reuben Wilson,
Absolute Body Control,
Simply Red,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eddi Front,
Ken Boothe,
Harry Pussy,
The Raincoats,
Kerri Chandler,
Funkadelic,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.