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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The Gladiators,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nico,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock,
Monolake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker,
Technova,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reuben Wilson,
Sugar Minott,
Soul II Soul,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scrapy,
the Association,
Minor Threat,
The Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Light Orchestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Order,
Japan,
Silicon Teens,
Isaac Hayes,
Audionom,
Crispian St. Peters,
Don Cherry,
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls,
Country Teasers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roger Hodgson,
Soulsonic Force,
Negative Approach,
Howard Jones,
Adolescents,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
Groovy Waters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
Lou Reed,
Trumans Water,
Drexciya,
Robert Wyatt,
Oneida,
Can,
U.S. Maple,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.