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 Congo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
Los Fastidios,
The Buckinghams,
The United States of America,
The Grass Roots,
Hasil Adkins,
KRS-One,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
Barrington Levy,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Essential Logic,
Desert Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick Morgan,
Cymande,
The Names,
Underground Resistance,
Peter and Kerry,
The Knickerbockers,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Bad Manners,
Royal Trux,
the Bar-Kays,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Flag,
Swell Maps,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Sneak,
Agitation Free,
The Slits,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.