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 Rwanda and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dark Day to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Pulsallama,
L. Decosne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Buzzcocks,
Newcleus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
Terry Callier,
Con Funk Shun,
The J.B.'s,
Bluetip,
Dave Gahan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Ronnie Foster,
ABBA,
Japan,
Wasted Youth,
Au Pairs,
Kerri Chandler,
Faraquet,
Second Layer,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Christie,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Sparks,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Sonny Sharrock,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
Loose Ends,
Jerry's Kids,
Procol Harum,
Spandau Ballet,
The Last Poets,
Ken Boothe,
Das Ding,
Alison Limerick,
Basic Channel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lightning Bolt,
Theoretical Girls,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
The Black Dice,
Todd Terry,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Laurel Aitken,
Quadrant,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
48th St. Collective,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.