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 Slovenia and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crime to the grime 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
June Days,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Boredoms,
the Normal,
Marmalade,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Los Fastidios,
The Offenders,
Darondo,
The Angels of Light,
Motorama,
Alton Ellis,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Brothers Johnson,
Goldenarms,
Bad Manners,
Scion,
Ossler,
Todd Rundgren,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Japan,
The Fall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Hardrive,
Absolute Body Control,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Mills,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Ponytail,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Archie Shepp,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
The Count Five,
June of 44,
Suicide,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Selecter,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.