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 Belgium and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 Neu! to the grime 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sugar Minott,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
The Martian,
Quadrant,
Davy DMX,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Remains,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Graham Central Station,
Amazonics,
Carl Craig,
Echospace,
Mark Hollis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ken Boothe,
Nils Olav,
B.T. Express,
Reagan Youth,
Iggy Pop,
The Durutti Column,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
Anthony Braxton,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nico,
Livin' Joy,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Modern Lovers,
X-Ray Spex,
Section 25,
The Names,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.