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 Marshall Islands and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the disco 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Christie,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
Alison Limerick,
L. Decosne,
Drexciya,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boz Scaggs,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Minutemen,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra,
Little Man,
The Saints,
Amazonics,
Ice-T,
Jeff Lynne,
Vainqueur,
Television,
The Vogues,
The Gories,
Pylon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Youth Brigade,
Whodini,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
the Soft Cell,
Fela Kuti,
The Angels of Light,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tres Demented,
Loose Ends,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
MDC,
Susan Cadogan,
Flipper,
World's Most,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.