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 United States and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Iggy Pop to the disco 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
E-Dancer,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sonic Youth,
Panda Bear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wolf Eyes,
Matthew Halsall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Henry Cow,
the Human League,
Ice-T,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
R.M.O.,
Terry Callier,
Chrome,
Kevin Saunderson,
Absolute Body Control,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
The Saints,
Dennis Brown,
New York Dolls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Carl Craig,
Royal Trux,
Amazonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Intrusion,
The Cure,
Nas,
Pylon,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat,
The Raincoats,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang of Four,
Dave Gahan,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
the Sonics,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smiths,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.