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 Ireland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young,
The Busters,
Brothers Johnson,
Anakelly,
Skarface,
ABC,
the Germs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Slits,
Minutemen,
This Heat,
Technova,
Jawbox,
Funky Four + One,
Franke,
Drexciya,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Subhumans,
Peter & Gordon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Dennis Brown,
Smog,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
The Victims,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lakeside,
B.T. Express,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Newcleus,
Chrome,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joey Negro,
Iggy Pop,
Howard Jones,
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.