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 Liechtenstein and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Move,
the Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Skriet,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
Slick Rick,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Reed,
Althea and Donna,
Nation of Ulysses,
Country Teasers,
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
Goldenarms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Duran Duran,
F. McDonald,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Lightning Bolt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fall,
Radio Birdman,
PIL,
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Intrusion,
Livin' Joy,
K-Klass,
The Black Dice,
Ossler,
Connie Case,
Buzzcocks,
Henry Cow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dead C,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Foxx,
kango's stein massive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Organ,
The Buckinghams,
Moebius,
Half Japanese,
Camberwell Now,
The Offenders,
CMW,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Görl,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
Kaleidoscope,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.