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 Korea South and from New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dark Day to the grime 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Derrick May,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hot Snakes,
Dead Boys,
Average White Band,
The Smiths,
DJ Style,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
The Sonics,
The Happenings,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
John Foxx,
Jacob Miller,
Tom Boy,
Erasure,
Das Ding,
David McCallum,
The Seeds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
June Days,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
Scratch Acid,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quando Quango,
New Order,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
Danielle Patucci,
Porter Ricks,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monks,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
Chris & Cosey,
Subhumans,
PIL,
Grey Daturas,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.