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 Albania and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Marc Almond,
The Detroit Cobras,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gories,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
Metal Thangz,
Scratch Acid,
Surgeon,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Smog,
The Names,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeff Lynne,
Bad Manners,
Lebanon Hanover,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Black Dice,
The Remains,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Niagra,
Banda Bassotti,
Cymande,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
Maurizio,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
The Walker Brothers,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.