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 Namibia and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Whodini to the rap 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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
Loose Ends,
Sound Behaviour,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
The Buckinghams,
John Cale,
The Cure,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
Junior Murvin,
Eurythmics,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Lynne,
The Durutti Column,
Morten Harket,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fuzztones,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach,
E-Dancer,
The Mummies,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
Ohio Players,
Alison Limerick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
Goldenarms,
Crime,
Avey Tare,
Siglo XX,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aswad,
Fela Kuti,
Marshall Jefferson,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.