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 Peru and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Scratch Acid to the funk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Gladiators,
Youth Brigade,
Ronnie Foster,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Black Flag,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Star Department,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pop Group,
Joe Finger,
The Trojans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
Ten City,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Little Man,
This Heat,
Rufus Thomas,
the Swans,
PIL,
X-102,
The Associates,
The Raincoats,
Mandrill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Easy Going,
Gong,
Darondo,
K-Klass,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funkadelic,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
Eden Ahbez,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül,
Young Marble Giants,
EPMD,
Index,
Aswad,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Copeland,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
Pulsallama,
Icehouse,
Rapeman,
The Index,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.