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 Haiti and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
Sixth Finger,
Altered Images,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deakin,
Ossler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Görl,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
Tears for Fears,
Drive Like Jehu,
Banda Bassotti,
Vladislav Delay,
Glenn Branca,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Magazine,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Copeland,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Desert Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Dave Gahan,
Janne Schatter,
Sound Behaviour,
The Raincoats,
The Associates,
L. Decosne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arcadia,
Graham Central Station,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
Henry Cow,
Ludus,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
Can,
David Bowie,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
Jawbox,
Masters at Work,
Tommy Roe,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Marcia Griffiths,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.