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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kurtis Blow to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Sixth Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Christie,
Boredoms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Model 500,
Chrome,
Lucky Dragons,
Metal Thangz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Marvin Gaye,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vladislav Delay,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Crooked Eye,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Byrd,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
Ornette Coleman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neil Young,
Joy Division,
The Beau Brummels,
Wings,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fuzztones,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
Los Fastidios,
Section 25,
Agent Orange,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
The Monochrome Set,
June of 44,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.