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 Tajikistan and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Soft Cell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sonic Youth,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Quantec,
The Pop Group,
Brick,
The Wake,
Black Pus,
Pussy Galore,
Warren Ellis,
Peter & Gordon,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
D'Angelo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harmonia,
The Remains,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantytec,
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
Black Sheep,
Joy Division,
DJ Style,
Altered Images,
Urselle,
The Moody Blues,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scion,
Gil Scott Heron,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Public Enemy,
Au Pairs,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Grauzone,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Rundgren,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Susan Cadogan,
Adolescents,
Peter and Kerry,
The Index,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.