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 France and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 U.S. Maple to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Quando Quango,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultravox,
The United States of America,
The Busters,
Los Fastidios,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suicide,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Searchers,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
Ohio Players,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Stiv Bators,
The Modern Lovers,
Unwound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hardrive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
H. Thieme,
Jacob Miller,
The Pretty Things,
Quadrant,
Isaac Hayes,
Arcadia,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
LL Cool J,
David Bowie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
The Associates,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eddi Front,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alison Limerick,
The Litter,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
cv313,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.