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 Burkina and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Deadbeat to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure,
Yaz,
Pulsallama,
Joyce Sims,
B.T. Express,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bad Manners,
Stereo Dub,
Cluster,
Blancmange,
Metal Thangz,
Zapp,
Radiohead,
Visage,
Slave,
Niagra,
Severed Heads,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skarface,
Henry Cow,
Graham Central Station,
Mary Jane Girls,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television,
The Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Stiv Bators,
The Index,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
Camberwell Now,
Roger Hodgson,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Clarke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Au Pairs,
Ponytail,
Model 500,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.