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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Infiniti to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Fat Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Rapeman,
Negative Approach,
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Index,
Tears for Fears,
Model 500,
The Blues Magoos,
Masters at Work,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grey Daturas,
Aloha Tigers,
Icehouse,
Fad Gadget,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
Swell Maps,
Agitation Free,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül,
Stiv Bators,
Fear,
Crash Course in Science,
Ten City,
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
Arcadia,
The Index,
Rakim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scrapy,
Carl Craig,
OOIOO,
John Holt,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moleskins,
Freddie Wadling,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
Public Enemy,
John Lydon,
The Fall,
The Star Department,
Scott Walker,
Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dave Gahan,
Yaz,
Section 25,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic.
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.