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 Togo and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ossler to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '90s.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Stooges,
Half Japanese,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
Judy Mowatt,
the Sonics,
Y Pants,
the Germs,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Oneida,
The Busters,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
Wings,
Los Fastidios,
Minnie Riperton,
Barrington Levy,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Near,
Technova,
Scientists,
Graham Central Station,
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
The Motions,
Ice-T,
AZ,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cure,
Ponytail,
In Retrospect,
Mars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
Young Marble Giants,
Clear Light,
Urselle,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.