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 the UAE and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 ABBA to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
The Wake,
Infiniti,
The New Christs,
Outsiders,
Slave,
Depeche Mode,
Average White Band,
Joe Finger,
Crime,
The Offenders,
Fela Kuti,
Rapeman,
Boredoms,
The Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
Surgeon,
Amazonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brick,
The Leaves,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mantronix,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultravox,
Monks,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Colin Newman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Hood,
The Residents,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
the Bar-Kays,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.