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 Slovenia and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
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 Erasure to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
The Gap Band,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
X-101,
Masters at Work,
Hashim,
DJ Sneak,
Yellowson,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
Iggy Pop,
The Busters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-102,
The Fuzztones,
Ponytail,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Symarip,
Lucky Dragons,
The Move,
Stiv Bators,
The Invisible,
FM Einheit,
Eric Dolphy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kenny Larkin,
Sällskapet,
Kerri Chandler,
Pussy Galore,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Smooth,
Yazoo,
The Golliwogs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Osbourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Max Romeo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
Cameo,
Skriet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
Boz Scaggs,
LL Cool J,
Lungfish,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.