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 Honduras and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Hashim,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Angry Samoans,
the Swans,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Pus,
The Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
The Gap Band,
Black Moon,
Pole,
Neu!,
Groovy Waters,
The Doors,
Unrelated Segments,
Model 500,
Byron Stingily,
Porter Ricks,
Harmonia,
Pantaleimon,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Y Pants,
Drexciya,
Aural Exciters,
Boz Scaggs,
Amon Düül II,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Angels of Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Neon Judgement,
ABC,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
The Monochrome Set,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
John Foxx,
Albert Ayler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Don Cherry,
The Beau Brummels,
Spoonie Gee,
Easy Going,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pierre Henry,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.