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 Togo 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Zero Boys to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scan 7,
Theoretical Girls,
DNA,
Brothers Johnson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Seeds,
The Saints,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
Pylon,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
Jacob Miller,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Derrick Morgan,
UT,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
10cc,
The Gap Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Christie,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Yellowson,
Boredoms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Little Man,
Robert Görl,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Fad Gadget,
The Martian,
Section 25,
Flamin' Groovies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
Susan Cadogan,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.