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 Marshall Islands and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Cramps to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra,
Bluetip,
Alton Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Don Cherry,
Marvin Gaye,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
The Selecter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Minutemen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ten City,
Neu!,
Rotary Connection,
Minnie Riperton,
Quadrant,
Soft Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dave Clark Five,
Animal Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.