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 Oman and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Durutti Column to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
KRS-One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Joe Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
China Crisis,
Ludus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Negative Approach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Sex Pistols,
Pylon,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
The Human League,
Joyce Sims,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalann,
D'Angelo,
The Raincoats,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Foxx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Isaac Hayes,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cymande,
Man Eating Sloth,
kango's stein massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
Sound Behaviour,
Hoover,
Scan 7,
Blossom Toes,
Basic Channel,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Görl,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Starr,
Essential Logic,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.