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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 The Durutti Column to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
John Foxx,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Godley & Creme,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Model 500,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
Metal Thangz,
Pagans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
Ten City,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cybotron,
Kaleidoscope,
Cluster,
Ultravox,
David Bowie,
The Mojo Men,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dark Day,
Blancmange,
Ludus,
Pere Ubu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thee Headcoats,
Icehouse,
Popol Vuh,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Selecter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare,
Q and Not U,
Connie Case,
Aswad,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.