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 Argentina and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Traffic Nightmare to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Slits,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Goldenarms,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Black Bananas,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Au Pairs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Residents,
Television Personalities,
Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Q and Not U,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
This Heat,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare,
Urselle,
The Fuzztones,
Parry Music,
Fear,
Country Teasers,
X-Ray Spex,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jawbox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
Brass Construction,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rosa Yemen,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Görl,
Brand Nubian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.