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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Skatalites to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
X-101,
The Neon Judgement,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Warsaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
E-Dancer,
Boredoms,
Brothers Johnson,
New Age Steppers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Newcleus,
Icehouse,
Gang of Four,
Marmalade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Index,
Japan,
Suicide,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Technova,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Lightning Bolt,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
Das Ding,
Second Layer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joey Negro,
The Gap Band,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faust,
Hot Snakes,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
John Coltrane,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
Siglo XX,
The Smoke,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
cv313,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.