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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Agitation Free,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
Faust,
Bush Tetras,
Mark Hollis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Average White Band,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anakelly,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
Dual Sessions,
Ossler,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
The Fortunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sam Rivers,
Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Roxy Music,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Q and Not U,
John Lydon,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Golliwogs,
Flash Fearless,
Massinfluence,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Style,
Gabor Szabo,
Chrome,
Second Layer,
Babytalk,
Wasted Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soulsonic Force,
The Offenders,
Fugazi,
Alphaville,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.