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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 R.M.O. to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Television,
Motorama,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronan,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unwound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
The Real Kids,
Scratch Acid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Alphaville,
Quando Quango,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
OOIOO,
Mark Hollis,
Masters at Work,
Soul Sonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Pylon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rites of Spring,
The Star Department,
E-Dancer,
Model 500,
Pere Ubu,
Ice-T,
Essential Logic,
Bill Near,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scientists,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.