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 Singapore and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare 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 U.S. Maple to the dance 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Sex Pistols,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Toni Rubio,
The Vogues,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cymande,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Section 25,
Sparks,
kango's stein massive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monochrome Set,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Five Americans,
The Music Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Dave Gahan,
Delta 5,
The Victims,
Rekid,
The Cure,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Prince Buster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boz Scaggs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
Yaz,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Organ,
This Heat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
Swell Maps,
The Barracudas,
the Germs,
Rufus Thomas,
the Association,
The Associates,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul II Soul,
UT,
Amon Düül II,
Pantaleimon,
K-Klass,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.