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 Bulgaria 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lalo Schifrin to the disco 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Prince Buster,
The American Breed,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funkadelic,
Yellowson,
10cc,
Mars,
Fad Gadget,
Alphaville,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
Niagra,
The Count Five,
Interpol,
Arthur Verocai,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Ohio Players,
Cluster,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Symarip,
The Leaves,
Banda Bassotti,
AZ,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
Sun City Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echospace,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Soulsonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Residents,
Panda Bear,
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Model 500,
Minutemen,
Boredoms,
Magma,
Nas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
Tubeway Army,
Skarface,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
Excepter,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Magazine,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.