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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flipper to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk 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?
Clear Light,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Faust,
Lee Hazlewood,
Warsaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Blake Baxter,
X-Ray Spex,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
F. McDonald,
Eli Mardock,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Man Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moss Icon,
Altered Images,
the Human League,
Morten Harket,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Angels of Light,
Rekid,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
Robert Wyatt,
Mad Mike,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
Siglo XX,
Lower 48,
the Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Kurtis Blow,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lindisfarne,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.