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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lucky Dragons to the electroclash 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Davy DMX,
Warsaw,
Erykah Badu,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
Infiniti,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
Maleditus Sound,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerri Chandler,
T. Rex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
R.M.O.,
In Retrospect,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül,
The Fuzztones,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Human League,
Visage,
Johnny Clarke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Quando Quango,
Althea and Donna,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joe Smooth,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Gang of Four,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quantec,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.