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 Botswana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sound Behaviour to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Last Poets,
Anakelly,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
Brick,
Sound Behaviour,
The New Christs,
The Cramps,
Marine Girls,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
Average White Band,
Flash Fearless,
the Normal,
Scientists,
Joy Division,
Buzzcocks,
Stiv Bators,
Monolake,
Qualms,
The Mummies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dirtbombs,
H. Thieme,
Rosa Yemen,
Bootsy Collins,
Minutemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Smiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Half Japanese,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Swans,
John Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
Clear Light,
Scan 7,
Man Parrish,
Leonard Cohen,
Oneida,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.