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 Rwanda and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dennis Brown,
Von Mondo,
Yazoo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Henry Cow,
Don Cherry,
Masters at Work,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cramps,
Whodini,
The Dead C,
Kurtis Blow,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
AZ,
DJ Style,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liliput,
Jimmy McGriff,
Youth Brigade,
Vladislav Delay,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
Outsiders,
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
Vainqueur,
Man Parrish,
UT,
DJ Sneak,
Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Idris Muhammad,
Fugazi,
the Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Al Stewart,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Danielle Patucci,
Carl Craig,
Fatback Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.