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 San Marino and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Parry Music to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Altered Images,
X-102,
Country Teasers,
Derrick Morgan,
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ken Boothe,
the Association,
Con Funk Shun,
Steve Hackett,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
John Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
David Axelrod,
Angry Samoans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
Matthew Halsall,
Au Pairs,
Scan 7,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Motorama,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid,
Mars,
La Düsseldorf,
Barrington Levy,
Gregory Isaacs,
a-ha,
DJ Style,
The Monochrome Set,
The Birthday Party,
Newcleus,
Arab on Radar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
Oneida,
Black Flag,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marmalade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Interpol,
Radio Birdman,
Deadbeat,
Theoretical Girls,
Agitation Free,
The Barracudas,
Ludus,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.