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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sam Rivers to the rock 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Fluxion,
Ludus,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
The Move,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Erasure,
Brass Construction,
H. Thieme,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Animal Collective,
The Blackbyrds,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Dead Boys,
CMW,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
Faust,
David Axelrod,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Terry,
Funky Four + One,
June Days,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Lyres,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Hashim,
Anakelly,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kaleidoscope,
Bauhaus,
World's Most,
Ultravox,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.