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 Liechtenstein and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mighty Diamonds to the techno 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Brick,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Association,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Camouflage,
Fad Gadget,
Suicide,
The Velvet Underground,
New Order,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Angels of Light,
Flipper,
Thompson Twins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
The Mummies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barrington Levy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Soft Cell,
Camberwell Now,
Joyce Sims,
Arab on Radar,
Harmonia,
Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
Q and Not U,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arcadia,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gun Club,
Chris & Cosey,
Icehouse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
June Days,
John Cale,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.