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 Colombia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 JFA to the rap 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
World's Most,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
This Heat,
Mad Mike,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Average White Band,
Supertramp,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Bad Manners,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hashim,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fire Engines,
Ronnie Foster,
Max Romeo,
The Young Rascals,
Marmalade,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fela Kuti,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
Archie Shepp,
D'Angelo,
Grauzone,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Alton Ellis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABBA,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The American Breed,
The Raincoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Slick Rick,
Aloha Tigers,
The Barracudas,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris & Cosey,
a-ha,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.