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 Nigeria 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Average White Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
Ten City,
The Buckinghams,
Fad Gadget,
Leonard Cohen,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Loose Ends,
Girls At Our Best!,
The J.B.'s,
Laurel Aitken,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-101,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tommy Roe,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Blackbyrds,
Popol Vuh,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxette,
Slave,
The Cure,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Martian,
Smog,
The Blues Magoos,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
In Retrospect,
Toni Rubio,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
L. Decosne,
Malaria!,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kas Product,
Skaos,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
Harpers Bizarre,
Intrusion,
June of 44,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sixth Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.