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 Zambia and from London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kurtis Blow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
cv313,
Joey Negro,
Cheater Slicks,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
Silicon Teens,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Wasted Youth,
Brick,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spoonie Gee,
Alton Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deakin,
The Standells,
The Barracudas,
R.M.O.,
Stiv Bators,
John Foxx,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Anakelly,
Agitation Free,
Minor Threat,
Camouflage,
Funky Four + One,
Technova,
Jerry's Kids,
Lungfish,
Quadrant,
Little Man,
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Chrome,
Unrelated Segments,
Reuben Wilson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Subhumans,
The Remains,
Sun Ra,
World's Most,
Bobby Sherman,
Saccharine Trust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick Morgan,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.