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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Franke,
Mandrill,
The New Christs,
The Smoke,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gun Club,
The Doors,
Liliput,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deepchord,
H. Thieme,
Quantec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Chrome,
Stetsasonic,
Wire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stereo Dub,
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar,
Chris & Cosey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Michelle Simonal,
10cc,
Sonic Youth,
Skarface,
Sound Behaviour,
Stiv Bators,
Deakin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
Joy Division,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bluetip,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fear,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.