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 Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Slits to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
a-ha,
kango's stein massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Talk Talk,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Beau Brummels,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Moon,
Nirvana,
Tubeway Army,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Metal Thangz,
Sparks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
Barbara Tucker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lalann,
U.S. Maple,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Yaz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
Boz Scaggs,
Fear,
Skriet,
Goldenarms,
Janne Schatter,
Animal Collective,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mars,
Outsiders,
Procol Harum,
Mandrill,
The Offenders,
Country Teasers,
Slave,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Copeland,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.