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 Sierra Leone 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nas,
Soul II Soul,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Toni Rubio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slits,
The Move,
Skarface,
One Last Wish,
Godley & Creme,
Suicide,
Bauhaus,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
Underground Resistance,
Skriet,
Goldenarms,
Yaz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Prunes,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Roxette,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
MDC,
Joe Smooth,
Ponytail,
Stiv Bators,
Brass Construction,
Bronski Beat,
Funkadelic,
Barry Ungar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Lungfish,
Eric Dolphy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
The Trojans,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
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.