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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 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 Nation of Ulysses to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Lower 48,
Aaron Thompson,
Sight & Sound,
Todd Terry,
The Sound,
the Sonics,
Cybotron,
Rekid,
The Cure,
Marmalade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Can,
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moleskins,
Hoover,
JFA,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
Faust,
The Slackers,
Bootsy Collins,
Howard Jones,
Adolescents,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rufus Thomas,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
The Music Machine,
The Happenings,
Moby Grape,
The Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
The Dave Clark Five,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül II,
June Days,
The Dead C,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.