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 Lebanon and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kaleidoscope,
Nik Kershaw,
The Motions,
The Cramps,
The Cowsills,
Royal Trux,
The Gories,
Albert Ayler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
David McCallum,
Arcadia,
The Human League,
Lalann,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Magazine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Groovy Waters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fortunes,
Skarface,
Dead Boys,
F. McDonald,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sällskapet,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Scan 7,
Lucky Dragons,
The Black Dice,
Model 500,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Basic Channel,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joensuu 1685,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.