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 Zambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
Ultravox,
Audionom,
Chris & Cosey,
Mark Hollis,
One Last Wish,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Machine,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
The Slits,
Half Japanese,
Kaleidoscope,
Duran Duran,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Circle Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dirtbombs,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funkadelic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Can,
Yellowson,
Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
Cheater Slicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
Neu!,
Nas,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nils Olav,
Laurel Aitken,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
Talk Talk,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
The Music Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Fatback Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.