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 Cameroon and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spandau Ballet to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Intrusion,
The Busters,
Peter and Kerry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cameo,
Reuben Wilson,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Star Department,
Warsaw,
Bad Manners,
Carl Craig,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
KRS-One,
John Holt,
Anakelly,
The Gladiators,
Bauhaus,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
The Kinks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Letta Mbulu,
The Selecter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Television,
Y Pants,
The Litter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Junior Murvin,
Rotary Connection,
Erykah Badu,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
John Lydon,
Tim Buckley,
Suicide,
Eric Copeland,
H. Thieme,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.