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 Lithuania and from Columbus.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brothers Johnson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
X-101,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
Groovy Waters,
Prince Buster,
Audionom,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camberwell Now,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
Mission of Burma,
Bauhaus,
AZ,
Oneida,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Joyce Sims,
Jacob Miller,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Janne Schatter,
The Gap Band,
Lindisfarne,
Easy Going,
Warren Ellis,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
Dual Sessions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tommy Roe,
Organ,
The Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Style,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Warsaw,
The Pretty Things,
Section 25,
Television Personalities,
Monolake,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.