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 Eritrea and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
8 Eyed Spy,
48th St. Collective,
Moebius,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mad Mike,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Goldenarms,
The Cure,
Joyce Sims,
Agent Orange,
Idris Muhammad,
Swell Maps,
This Heat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Eddi Front,
Lungfish,
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Toni Rubio,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
Nas,
Anthony Braxton,
Monolake,
L. Decosne,
Rosa Yemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Index,
Joe Smooth,
The Happenings,
Essential Logic,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Visage,
Zero Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Qualms,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
The Pop Group,
Radiohead,
Crash Course in Science,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cybotron,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Copeland,
Scrapy,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.