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 Israel and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Ohio Players to the dance 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Dead C,
A Certain Ratio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grauzone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cluster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
The Birthday Party,
Sparks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alphaville,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultra Naté,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harry Pussy,
Cybotron,
Al Stewart,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Almond,
The Kinks,
Brand Nubian,
Man Parrish,
Sound Behaviour,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
John Holt,
Dual Sessions,
Arab on Radar,
Funkadelic,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
Barrington Levy,
The Busters,
Second Layer,
Aural Exciters,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
Lucky Dragons,
Adolescents,
New Order,
Dennis Brown,
Ralphi Rosario,
KRS-One,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.