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 Kuwait and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
Organ,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Wells,
Scrapy,
The Misunderstood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Loose Ends,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Morten Harket,
Sam Rivers,
The Remains,
ABC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
cv313,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moss Icon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris Corsano,
X-102,
Suicide,
Public Enemy,
Warsaw,
Lower 48,
the Slits,
Soft Machine,
Rotary Connection,
Skarface,
The Slits,
the Association,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott Heron,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
Simply Red,
Oneida,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Reagan Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
New Order,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
The Cure,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lakeside,
New Age Steppers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
Altered Images,
Prince Buster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Half Japanese,
The Names,
R.M.O.,
Patti Smith,
The Cowsills,
Babytalk,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.