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 Haiti and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bang On A Can to the rock 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Hill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erasure,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Average White Band,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rotary Connection,
Judy Mowatt,
The Happenings,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Aaron Thompson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jeff Mills,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Crooked Eye,
Brass Construction,
Joy Division,
Symarip,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
Mr. Review,
Mars,
Man Parrish,
AZ,
Scratch Acid,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warsaw,
The Gap Band,
Gang of Four,
Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.