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 Croatia and from New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Unrelated Segments to the grunge 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Pantaleimon,
The Martian,
the Swans,
Gong,
Max Romeo,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boz Scaggs,
Cecil Taylor,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Toni Rubio,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Byron Stingily,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
Grey Daturas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camberwell Now,
Jacques Brel,
The Busters,
Thee Headcoats,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Trumans Water,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Marvin Gaye,
EPMD,
The Angels of Light,
Kas Product,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Chris Corsano,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.