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 Egypt and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 New Order to the grime 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cure,
Talk Talk,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
Rod Modell,
Byron Stingily,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Zeros,
The Victims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Shoche,
Pantytec,
Sällskapet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thee Headcoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
The Stooges,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Anakelly,
Bill Wells,
The Knickerbockers,
AZ,
ABC,
The Monochrome Set,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
Harry Pussy,
Essential Logic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
Pole,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
Loose Ends,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Golliwogs,
Idris Muhammad,
Tubeway Army,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.