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 Somalia and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron 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 güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
LL Cool J,
Magazine,
Morten Harket,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young,
Depeche Mode,
MC5,
Boz Scaggs,
Clear Light,
Sällskapet,
Althea and Donna,
Make Up,
Ronnie Foster,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kayak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Eden Ahbez,
Q and Not U,
The Move,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dead C,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
New Order,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Motorama,
the Germs,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Thompson Twins,
Sam Rivers,
Archie Shepp,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
Icehouse,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Bang On A Can,
Absolute Body Control,
Altered Images,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
Adolescents,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
The Invisible,
The Buckinghams,
Ohio Players,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.