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 Slovakia and from Manchester.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
Marc Almond,
Toni Rubio,
Alphaville,
Flipper,
Marmalade,
The Happenings,
Roxy Music,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
Al Stewart,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Harmonia,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tubeway Army,
China Crisis,
Con Funk Shun,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brass Construction,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Second Layer,
Rhythm & Sound,
June of 44,
Rapeman,
Scientists,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Walker Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Chris Corsano,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Guru Guru,
The Names,
Faust,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arab on Radar,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.