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 Chile and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 DJ Style to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Absolute Body Control,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Joy Division,
Eli Mardock,
Rekid,
Urselle,
Simply Red,
Warsaw,
Ornette Coleman,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monolake,
Fluxion,
Warren Ellis,
Das Ding,
The Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Camouflage,
The Motions,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Stereo Dub,
The Knickerbockers,
Davy DMX,
Talk Talk,
Juan Atkins,
The Offenders,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tomorrow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pole,
Carl Craig,
Dark Day,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Echospace,
Black Sheep,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Scan 7,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
Scientists,
Shuggie Otis,
Yellowson,
Nils Olav,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.