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 Dominican Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Ronan to the electroclash 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gories,
Derrick Morgan,
The Offenders,
Sex Pistols,
The Move,
The Techniques,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
Soft Machine,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Cybotron,
The Pop Group,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Copeland,
Ponytail,
Mo-Dettes,
Index,
The Fortunes,
Yaz,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxette,
New Order,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythm & Sound,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
Electric Prunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
Stereo Dub,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hashim,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Bourne,
Metal Thangz,
Franke,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.