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 Latvia and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Stetsasonic to the rap 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
Marvin Gaye,
Pole,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
Donny Hathaway,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Anakelly,
Can,
Mantronix,
The Monks,
Smog,
Zapp,
New York Dolls,
The Zeros,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Mad Mike,
the Slits,
Sam Rivers,
Arab on Radar,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo,
Radio Birdman,
Desert Stars,
Pulsallama,
Scan 7,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
Parry Music,
Public Enemy,
Blake Baxter,
The Velvet Underground,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erykah Badu,
Depeche Mode,
Rekid,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Sherman,
Au Pairs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.