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 Sierra Leone and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fela Kuti to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Swans,
Simply Red,
Swell Maps,
The Cramps,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Five Americans,
Boredoms,
Aloha Tigers,
Anthony Braxton,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Excepter,
Barrington Levy,
Ronnie Foster,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiohead,
The Associates,
Lalann,
the Association,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sound Behaviour,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gories,
B.T. Express,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cymande,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Barracudas,
Surgeon,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alphaville,
Eddi Front,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Byrd,
Grey Daturas,
Marvin Gaye,
The Litter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.