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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Associates to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fuzztones,
The Monks,
Y Pants,
Rotary Connection,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric Copeland,
New Order,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oneida,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Excepter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Pantytec,
Surgeon,
Dual Sessions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Certain Ratio,
The Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angry Samoans,
Brand Nubian,
Crash Course in Science,
The Real Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
Ludus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scott Walker,
The Beau Brummels,
Sandy B,
PIL,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Red Krayola,
Quantec,
Junior Murvin,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
This Heat,
Chrome,
Boz Scaggs,
Panda Bear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.