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 Tonga and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rap 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Camberwell Now,
Kerrie Biddell,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
Oneida,
PIL,
John Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio,
Harry Pussy,
Skriet,
Byron Stingily,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
Whodini,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
the Human League,
Q65,
Pantaleimon,
China Crisis,
Malaria!,
Hardrive,
Black Flag,
Lyres,
David McCallum,
Chris Corsano,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Pretty Things,
Ash Ra Tempel,
In Retrospect,
Rod Modell,
Visage,
The Music Machine,
ABC,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Colin Newman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Masters at Work,
Average White Band,
Arab on Radar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
New Age Steppers,
Eric Copeland,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Spandau Ballet,
Toni Rubio,
The Durutti Column,
Slave,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.