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 Senegal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pet Shop Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The Shadows of Knight,
Morten Harket,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
Main Source,
Cybotron,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
Janne Schatter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joyce Sims,
Procol Harum,
Idris Muhammad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
Suburban Knight,
Accadde A,
Jeff Lynne,
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Loose Ends,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Amon Düül II,
Fifty Foot Hose,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Hood,
The Monochrome Set,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Metal Thangz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
Moebius,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Red Krayola,
48th St. Collective,
Nils Olav,
The Five Americans,
Stereo Dub,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.