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 Italy and from Woodstock.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Marshall Jefferson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Fear,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Raincoats,
The Techniques,
DJ Sneak,
Spandau Ballet,
Organ,
The Grass Roots,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter and Kerry,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Das Ding,
Darondo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
X-101,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Finger,
The Dead C,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Desert Stars,
Bauhaus,
John Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
In Retrospect,
Black Moon,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Terry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brand Nubian,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
Laurel Aitken,
Outsiders,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television,
Blossom Toes,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.