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 Austria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Divine Comedy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gladiators,
Jesper Dahlback,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
Young Marble Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scott Walker,
Yaz,
Skriet,
Severed Heads,
Grey Daturas,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Visage,
The Count Five,
the Association,
Dark Day,
Babytalk,
Magazine,
The Slits,
Man Parrish,
Derrick May,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultravox,
Joe Finger,
Echospace,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
The Cramps,
Lindisfarne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers,
Unwound,
The Evens,
Crooked Eye,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.