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 Dominican Republic and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Average White Band 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blackbyrds,
Scrapy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Nico,
Loose Ends,
The Wake,
Oneida,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Das Ding,
Eli Mardock,
Agent Orange,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
Letta Mbulu,
Yellowson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tom Boy,
The Index,
Altered Images,
The Evens,
AZ,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Skaos,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Grass Roots,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Iggy Pop,
The Last Poets,
The Seeds,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Ronnie Foster,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
Qualms,
In Retrospect,
Shuggie Otis,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.