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 Panama 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Man Parrish to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Divine Comedy,
Eddi Front,
Unrelated Segments,
The Saints,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
John Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Fear,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Dawn Penn,
The Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Intrusion,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Derrick Morgan,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-102,
Cheater Slicks,
Guru Guru,
Technova,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Model 500,
Scion,
Duran Duran,
Spandau Ballet,
the Swans,
Basic Channel,
Schoolly D,
Jerry's Kids,
the Slits,
The Golliwogs,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deakin,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Agent Orange,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.