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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harmonia to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Cybotron,
The Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pretty Things,
The Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
John Holt,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Yazoo,
Pagans,
Gichy Dan,
Von Mondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed,
Ultra Naté,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Magma,
Fatback Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
Desert Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joe Smooth,
Organ,
Marine Girls,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Reagan Youth,
Black Moon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lakeside,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Anthony Braxton,
Whodini,
Mark Hollis,
Prince Buster,
The Dirtbombs,
Maurizio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tears for Fears,
Goldenarms,
Dawn Penn,
Quadrant,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.