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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang of Four to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Quantec,
Roger Hodgson,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Axelrod,
Robert Wyatt,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fall,
Barbara Tucker,
cv313,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Aural Exciters,
Mark Hollis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
Model 500,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monochrome Set,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Interpol,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Starr,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Bar-Kays,
La Düsseldorf,
Sugar Minott,
The Saints,
ABC,
The Invisible,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Walker Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Dead Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Howard Jones,
Massinfluence,
Fad Gadget,
The Dead C,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bush Tetras,
Yazoo,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.