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 Costa Rica and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masters at Work to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
Absolute Body Control,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
Stetsasonic,
Anthony Braxton,
Rufus Thomas,
Marmalade,
The Star Department,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Davy DMX,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Angels of Light,
Heaven 17,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Von Mondo,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
Youth Brigade,
Gichy Dan,
Ultravox,
Outsiders,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
Peter & Gordon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DNA,
Black Flag,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quantec,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
Magma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deadbeat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Copeland,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Happenings,
Yellowson,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.