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 Chile 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Banda Bassotti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Dave Gahan,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minutemen,
Heaven 17,
Suicide,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
Eurythmics,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
Kayak,
Derrick Morgan,
Kurtis Blow,
Little Man,
the Germs,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
Essential Logic,
Iggy Pop,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Theoretical Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Black Bananas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott Heron,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers,
Henry Cow,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Subhumans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Count Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Toni Rubio,
Marvin Gaye,
Lindisfarne,
Ultravox,
L. Decosne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
Sugar Minott,
a-ha,
Reuben Wilson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
Cybotron,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.