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 Chile and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Godley & Creme to the funk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Duran Duran,
Chrome,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Frankie Knuckles,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Supertramp,
Kenny Larkin,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sixth Finger,
Bad Manners,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shuggie Otis,
Grauzone,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
The Move,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
R.M.O.,
U.S. Maple,
Wire,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flipper,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joyce Sims,
Spandau Ballet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Alphaville,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Remains,
Kas Product,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Pierre Henry,
Magma,
Minnie Riperton,
Ponytail,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Darondo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.