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 Cuba and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joe Finger to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Warsaw,
K-Klass,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
The Victims,
Marmalade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Qualms,
Grey Daturas,
Michelle Simonal,
Siglo XX,
Guru Guru,
Minor Threat,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
Symarip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Franke,
Depeche Mode,
The Gap Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Royal Trux,
Don Cherry,
H. Thieme,
Echospace,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers,
MC5,
Skaos,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Hasil Adkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-101,
The Selecter,
The Sound,
The Pop Group,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donny Hathaway,
The Beau Brummels,
the Association,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Remains,
Lou Reed,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
Hot Snakes,
Tim Buckley,
Essential Logic,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fugs,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.