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 Kenya and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick May,
Soul Sonic Force,
Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
X-101,
the Association,
DJ Style,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Basic Channel,
June Days,
The Index,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Max Romeo,
The Real Kids,
The Angels of Light,
AZ,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
These Immortal Souls,
Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Starr,
Ken Boothe,
Theoretical Girls,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
Gang of Four,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
The Blackbyrds,
Can,
Sun City Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Leonard Cohen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sällskapet,
One Last Wish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Quando Quango,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Residents,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.