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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Slackers to the dance 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Los Fastidios,
Thee Headcoats,
Crime,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Pus,
Magma,
The Mojo Men,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deadbeat,
Joy Division,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Bauhaus,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick May,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gories,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
Dawn Penn,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Lynne,
Kenny Larkin,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
The Music Machine,
The Zeros,
Buzzcocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Kerri Chandler,
Audionom,
Country Teasers,
June Days,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultra Naté,
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
Howard Jones,
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
David McCallum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Outsiders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funkadelic,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
X-101,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.