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 Zambia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 John Lydon to the rock 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
DJ Sneak,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Johnny Osbourne,
Can,
Vainqueur,
Carl Craig,
Interpol,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Grass Roots,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dennis Brown,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronnie Foster,
Bob Dylan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Adolescents,
Oblivians,
Whodini,
Icehouse,
UT,
Sight & Sound,
One Last Wish,
The Toasters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
Funky Four + One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Frankie Knuckles,
Absolute Body Control,
Rod Modell,
Minny Pops,
Masters at Work,
Parry Music,
Davy DMX,
Amon Düül,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Blake Baxter,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
Mad Mike,
The Kinks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Ponytail,
The Sonics,
Dead Boys,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.