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 Paraguay and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 The Trojans to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Bang On A Can,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Crash Course in Science,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hashim,
John Lydon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
Faust,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
Deadbeat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Human League,
Mad Mike,
Leonard Cohen,
Gong,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
Lindisfarne,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Isaac Hayes,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cluster,
Sun Ra,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Pylon,
Scion,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cure,
Urselle,
Deepchord,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pulsallama,
Vainqueur,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
The Move,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
H. Thieme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
kango's stein massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.