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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Model 500 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Procol Harum,
Eric Dolphy,
The Velvet Underground,
Arcadia,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Halsall,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Ten City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Angels of Light,
Interpol,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Modern Lovers,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kas Product,
Black Sheep,
Ituana,
Mantronix,
La Düsseldorf,
Little Man,
Oneida,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Morten Harket,
Nils Olav,
Steve Hackett,
Bronski Beat,
Dawn Penn,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maleditus Sound,
cv313,
World's Most,
the Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
The Smiths,
DNA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sam Rivers,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.