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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Wake to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
H. Thieme,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-102,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
Eddi Front,
The Durutti Column,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
Pierre Henry,
Danielle Patucci,
Amon Düül,
Nico,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Alice Coltrane,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
LL Cool J,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light,
The Detroit Cobras,
Franke,
Spandau Ballet,
Monolake,
Main Source,
Black Bananas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul II Soul,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DNA,
Ultravox,
Traffic Nightmare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Juan Atkins,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.