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 Tanzania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash 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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Steve Hackett,
The Motions,
Grey Daturas,
The Slackers,
Bob Dylan,
Saccharine Trust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Colin Newman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Interpol,
Oneida,
Avey Tare,
Rapeman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monolake,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tim Buckley,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
the Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cecil Taylor,
Bluetip,
OOIOO,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Wyatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Organ,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy Collins,
KRS-One,
Roxette,
Vainqueur,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Cale,
Gastr Del Sol,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.