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 the UAE and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Smog,
E-Dancer,
Crooked Eye,
Skriet,
Gang of Four,
The Seeds,
The Gap Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
James White and The Blacks,
China Crisis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Tom Boy,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
Eurythmics,
Pere Ubu,
One Last Wish,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wasted Youth,
OOIOO,
Echospace,
Lyres,
Grauzone,
Fluxion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
Brass Construction,
Pussy Galore,
the Association,
The Birthday Party,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
New York Dolls,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Inner City,
Iggy Pop,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fuzztones,
The Grass Roots,
Joey Negro,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.