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 Egypt and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 L. Decosne 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Minny Pops,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Leaves,
Main Source,
Fluxion,
Marine Girls,
Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Michelle Simonal,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Bourne,
Danielle Patucci,
Malaria!,
Country Teasers,
Althea and Donna,
Y Pants,
Intrusion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
KRS-One,
The Vogues,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang of Four,
DJ Style,
Quantec,
Josef K,
Pierre Henry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
The Residents,
Ponytail,
Brothers Johnson,
Sex Pistols,
Peter and Kerry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Howard Jones,
Radiohead,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
JFA,
Bobby Sherman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Depeche Mode,
Panda Bear,
Rites of Spring,
Animal Collective,
Maurizio,
Kenny Larkin,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.