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 Austria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Eurythmics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Howard Jones,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Black Dice,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
Barbara Tucker,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
The Durutti Column,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bronski Beat,
CMW,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
The Divine Comedy,
Lucky Dragons,
Shoche,
Unwound,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
Ten City,
the Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
Babytalk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mad Mike,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
This Heat,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Newcleus,
Von Mondo,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.