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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boogie Down Productions to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
Make Up,
Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lower 48,
Neil Young,
The Victims,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yellowson,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
Loose Ends,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Pantytec,
The Toasters,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The New Christs,
the Germs,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Massinfluence,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monochrome Set,
Erasure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Joey Negro,
The Velvet Underground,
Sound Behaviour,
The Black Dice,
Morten Harket,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
PIL,
T. Rex,
Sam Rivers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Tremeloes,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
Camouflage,
Gang Green,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.