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 Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pere Ubu to the electroclash 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Bob Dylan,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Judy Mowatt,
The Knickerbockers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun City Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
LL Cool J,
Little Man,
Quadrant,
Dual Sessions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
This Heat,
Mandrill,
The Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
Underground Resistance,
World's Most,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultravox,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
the Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
Brand Nubian,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
Eli Mardock,
Trumans Water,
Fluxion,
Fear,
Ten City,
Q65,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Camouflage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Clarke,
Royal Trux,
Crispian St. Peters,
JFA,
Niagra,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Zeros,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
Vainqueur,
Subhumans,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.