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 Zimbabwe and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mission of Burma,
The Slackers,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott Heron,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unwound,
The Motions,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
Darondo,
Minny Pops,
Bluetip,
Mad Mike,
Marvin Gaye,
Roxy Music,
Model 500,
Jeff Mills,
AZ,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
DNA,
ABC,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dennis Brown,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angry Samoans,
Cecil Taylor,
Inner City,
Slave,
Can,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
The Star Department,
The Cramps,
Sight & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Morten Harket,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Peter & Gordon,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Zeros,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Misunderstood,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.