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 Oman and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Flipper,
Aswad,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bronski Beat,
Minor Threat,
Technova,
Minny Pops,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Techniques,
Yusef Lateef,
T. Rex,
Cecil Taylor,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville,
Ice-T,
Shoche,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Scratch Acid,
Sex Pistols,
Clear Light,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
Scan 7,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Dawn Penn,
Little Man,
Slave,
Alice Coltrane,
Babytalk,
The Modern Lovers,
The Toasters,
The Motions,
Eric Copeland,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerrie Biddell,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed,
Mr. Review,
Erykah Badu,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Los Fastidios,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Sherman,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Fraelich,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Section 25,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.