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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Zero Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Essential Logic,
Blossom Toes,
Fat Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
Carl Craig,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
Brick,
Dead Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Cell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Matthew Bourne,
Nas,
the Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
June of 44,
Althea and Donna,
Rekid,
The Saints,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Misunderstood,
10cc,
Suburban Knight,
Terry Callier,
Darondo,
The Gap Band,
Trumans Water,
Henry Cow,
Donald Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
Yaz,
Aswad,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Janne Schatter,
Cecil Taylor,
Kayak,
Jacob Miller,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
The Smiths,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.