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 Congo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Con Funk Shun to the disco 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
X-102,
Lalann,
Alphaville,
Cal Tjader,
Theoretical Girls,
The Angels of Light,
The Motions,
The Standells,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
F. McDonald,
Crispy Ambulance,
Los Fastidios,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
L. Decosne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Wyatt,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
Juan Atkins,
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Moebius,
Slave,
Rotary Connection,
The Monks,
Kas Product,
The Young Rascals,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Barracudas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scratch Acid,
Soulsonic Force,
EPMD,
Howard Jones,
Pagans,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alison Limerick,
Ohio Players,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Basic Channel,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Soft Machine,
Skriet,
Jacques Brel,
The Doors,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.