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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Grass Roots to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Icehouse,
Susan Cadogan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy Collins,
Sixth Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Invisible,
the Normal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pylon,
Graham Central Station,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
The Cramps,
DJ Sneak,
Japan,
Stetsasonic,
Brass Construction,
Boredoms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Royal Trux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Coltrane,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
The Leaves,
Anakelly,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
John Lydon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
The Names,
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.