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 Albania and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Prince Buster,
Quantec,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Accadde A,
Morten Harket,
Main Source,
Godley & Creme,
Brand Nubian,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
KRS-One,
Quando Quango,
Dave Gahan,
Crime,
Make Up,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mark Hollis,
Hoover,
Little Man,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ohio Players,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Franke,
Aswad,
Brass Construction,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nils Olav,
The Wake,
H. Thieme,
Pole,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gerry Rafferty,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rapeman,
The Tremeloes,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Alphaville,
T. Rex,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
The Fire Engines,
The Index,
The Residents,
Peter & Gordon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantaleimon,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.