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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum 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 John Lydon to the grime 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Jeff Mills,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronnie Foster,
Rod Modell,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Darondo,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
Don Cherry,
Chris Corsano,
The Doors,
Average White Band,
David McCallum,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Remains,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Groovy Waters,
Lalann,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Suburban Knight,
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
F. McDonald,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
Interpol,
The Move,
the Normal,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stetsasonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Hoover,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gichy Dan,
Bootsy Collins,
Radiohead,
Ten City,
The Fugs,
Newcleus,
Mo-Dettes,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.