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 Afghanistan and from London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Severed Heads to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Wake,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
China Crisis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
Parry Music,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Audionom,
Fad Gadget,
Michelle Simonal,
Mission of Burma,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
kango's stein massive,
the Human League,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bluetip,
10cc,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Wells,
Isaac Hayes,
Suicide,
Amon Düül II,
Visage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABC,
The Saints,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Pole,
EPMD,
the Swans,
The Standells,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
Panda Bear,
Metal Thangz,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.