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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 DJ Style to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DNA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Anakelly,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
Intrusion,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
a-ha,
Buzzcocks,
Visage,
Ultravox,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
The Red Krayola,
Joe Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Stooges,
Deakin,
L. Decosne,
Subhumans,
Josef K,
Camberwell Now,
Joyce Sims,
Groovy Waters,
Joe Finger,
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bang On A Can,
John Foxx,
The Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Index,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Brothers Johnson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Patti Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marmalade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.