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 Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Soul II Soul to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Matthew Halsall,
Pulsallama,
Rakim,
Bluetip,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang of Four,
The Dave Clark Five,
Depeche Mode,
Second Layer,
Au Pairs,
Television Personalities,
The Fall,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Susan Cadogan,
Whodini,
The Move,
Lucky Dragons,
The Selecter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
Neu!,
Terry Callier,
Spandau Ballet,
UT,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Lynne,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Ten City,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alison Limerick,
the Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
The Smiths,
Hoover,
Gil Scott Heron,
Warsaw,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultravox,
Delta 5,
Quantec,
Harmonia,
F. McDonald,
The Human League,
Flipper,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.