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 Laos and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Curtis Mayfield to the dance 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heaven 17,
Fluxion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Velvet Underground,
Monks,
The Barracudas,
PIL,
The Five Americans,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Half Japanese,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drive Like Jehu,
CMW,
Quantec,
Niagra,
The Techniques,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Howard Jones,
Essential Logic,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Joey Negro,
Eddi Front,
Livin' Joy,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rakim,
X-102,
Patti Smith,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Model 500,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Archie Shepp,
Slave,
Dark Day,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Cell,
Qualms,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.