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 St Lucia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Crooked Eye to the grime 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Au Pairs,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soulsonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Victims,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
Bob Dylan,
Masters at Work,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bluetip,
KRS-One,
L. Decosne,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Godley & Creme,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
Kas Product,
David McCallum,
Outsiders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nils Olav,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
Procol Harum,
Ohio Players,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Index,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
A Certain Ratio,
China Crisis,
New York Dolls,
Eve St. Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.