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 Croatia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Leonard Cohen to the electroclash 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Slackers,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
Flipper,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pulsallama,
Scott Walker,
Nas,
Sällskapet,
Freddie Wadling,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
Harry Pussy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
In Retrospect,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sonics,
Chrome,
Moby Grape,
Juan Atkins,
Sandy B,
Drexciya,
The Modern Lovers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Average White Band,
Guru Guru,
Silicon Teens,
Brass Construction,
KRS-One,
Arab on Radar,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dave Gahan,
Sugar Minott,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Index,
Kerri Chandler,
the Bar-Kays,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sixth Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
K-Klass,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Hill,
Radio Birdman,
Neu!,
Susan Cadogan,
Steve Hackett,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.