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 Suriname and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Bar-Kays to the rock 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Alison Limerick,
Wolf Eyes,
Skriet,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Laurel Aitken,
Graham Central Station,
The Selecter,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul II Soul,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
The Vogues,
the Soft Cell,
FM Einheit,
The Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boredoms,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pretty Things,
Minny Pops,
Altered Images,
Nick Fraelich,
Brick,
Nico,
Rakim,
Urselle,
Gong,
Heaven 17,
OOIOO,
Michelle Simonal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camberwell Now,
Alton Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Index,
Hoover,
Gang of Four,
Lakeside,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Royal Trux,
Negative Approach,
Leonard Cohen,
Hot Snakes,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.