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 Liechtenstein 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
Au Pairs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
Ituana,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monochrome Set,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roger Hodgson,
Cheater Slicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arab on Radar,
The Golliwogs,
Erasure,
Jimmy McGriff,
Susan Cadogan,
The Pop Group,
Ludus,
Little Man,
Flipper,
Soft Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Halsall,
Symarip,
Schoolly D,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Goldenarms,
The Human League,
Pole,
ABBA,
The Stooges,
Yaz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Spoonie Gee,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
The Litter,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mantronix,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.