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 Greece and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Fortunes,
Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
The Invisible,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Motorama,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
Quadrant,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Mr. Review,
Dawn Penn,
Masters at Work,
Slick Rick,
Drexciya,
Khruangbin,
The Divine Comedy,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
K-Klass,
The Dirtbombs,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Brick,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
Visage,
Yazoo,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
Swans,
Simply Red,
The Golliwogs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
AZ,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Althea and Donna,
Rhythm & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.