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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 The Young Rascals to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smoke,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick Morgan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
EPMD,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Yazoo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
K-Klass,
Minutemen,
The Fall,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
Donald Byrd,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
Scratch Acid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Yellowson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Index,
The Litter,
Section 25,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
Yusef Lateef,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Easy Going,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pretty Things,
The Real Kids,
Interpol,
Thompson Twins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Pus,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
John Coltrane,
Suicide,
KRS-One,
Jawbox,
Q65,
Supertramp,
Delta 5,
The Residents,
Isaac Hayes,
Jandek,
Steve Hackett,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.