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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Divine Comedy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Half Japanese,
Black Sheep,
The Wake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Magazine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Sonics,
Unwound,
Erykah Badu,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABC,
Juan Atkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Suicide,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Ronan,
Amon Düül II,
Ludus,
Byron Stingily,
CMW,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
Average White Band,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick May,
Matthew Bourne,
Cal Tjader,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
Model 500,
World's Most,
Lucky Dragons,
Minutemen,
The Gladiators,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Enemy,
Monks,
Pole,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.