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 Canada and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gichy Dan to the punk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grey Daturas,
Malaria!,
Andrew Hill,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro,
Carl Craig,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
Echospace,
Connie Case,
Al Stewart,
Nico,
Eric Copeland,
The Trojans,
Howard Jones,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
Spoonie Gee,
Altered Images,
The Gories,
Rosa Yemen,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Bananas,
Arcadia,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Bootsy Collins,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
Scion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
L. Decosne,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Scientists,
The Slackers,
Groovy Waters,
Boredoms,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zero Boys,
Joy Division,
Bush Tetras,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.