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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Cowsills to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Groovy Waters,
Zapp,
Soft Machine,
The Residents,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
R.M.O.,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
EPMD,
John Foxx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donald Byrd,
Massinfluence,
Amon Düül,
Parry Music,
Roxy Music,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
Josef K,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deakin,
Newcleus,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
Black Sheep,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fatback Band,
Ituana,
Animal Collective,
The Electric Prunes,
Procol Harum,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Amon Düül II,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Remains,
Mad Mike,
Lyres,
The Techniques,
Drexciya,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
Flipper,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
Minor Threat,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.