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 Madagascar and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Andrew Hill to the disco 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
Little Man,
Pere Ubu,
Unwound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pantytec,
Theoretical Girls,
Dawn Penn,
A Certain Ratio,
John Foxx,
Tommy Roe,
Animal Collective,
Angry Samoans,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barbara Tucker,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
Procol Harum,
Soul II Soul,
The Human League,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül,
Marmalade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rekid,
Colin Newman,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
T.S.O.L.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nas,
Warren Ellis,
The Smoke,
Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Gichy Dan,
The Velvet Underground,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice,
The Evens,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.