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 Senegal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Depeche Mode to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Deakin,
Ornette Coleman,
The Last Poets,
Marc Almond,
Ludus,
China Crisis,
Magma,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott Heron,
A Certain Ratio,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dead Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Vogues,
The Gories,
Skaos,
Soft Cell,
Neu!,
Quando Quango,
Cluster,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
The Smoke,
June Days,
Brothers Johnson,
Y Pants,
Aloha Tigers,
the Germs,
Ice-T,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Main Source,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
Marmalade,
Moss Icon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pantytec,
New Order,
AZ,
Kerri Chandler,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
Black Pus,
X-102,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.