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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Music Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Cybotron,
Quando Quango,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Erykah Badu,
Malaria!,
Steve Hackett,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television,
Mark Hollis,
The J.B.'s,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
MC5,
Grey Daturas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-101,
The Doors,
Vainqueur,
the Slits,
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Maleditus Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
L. Decosne,
Nik Kershaw,
Masters at Work,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
The Smiths,
Moby Grape,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scrapy,
The Count Five,
Schoolly D,
The Move,
June Days,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
Fatback Band,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare,
Das Ding,
Eurythmics,
Visage,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minnie Riperton,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.