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 Sri Lanka and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soul II Soul to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Black Flag,
Byron Stingily,
Susan Cadogan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eddi Front,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Absolute Body Control,
Surgeon,
Skarface,
Frankie Knuckles,
Massinfluence,
Boredoms,
Lyres,
Faust,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Moon,
Nico,
Angry Samoans,
The Motions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Spoonie Gee,
Moebius,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Television,
Crime,
The Young Rascals,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chris Corsano,
Chris & Cosey,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Duran Duran,
Lower 48,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Todd Rundgren,
Q and Not U,
Girls At Our Best!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joey Negro,
Animal Collective,
Anakelly,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.