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 Lebanon and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Heaven 17,
Ronan,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dave Gahan,
Adolescents,
The Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Metal Thangz,
Piero Umiliani,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Model 500,
Yellowson,
Pole,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
The Vogues,
Sex Pistols,
The Standells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Althea and Donna,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skriet,
X-102,
Rotary Connection,
The Moleskins,
10cc,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Fugazi,
Tim Buckley,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
New Order,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Man Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
the Soft Cell,
Wings,
Minor Threat,
The Buckinghams,
The Skatalites,
Magazine,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
Unrelated Segments,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
Bobby Byrd,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.