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 Czech Republic and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Janne Schatter 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Massinfluence,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang On A Can,
10cc,
X-Ray Spex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Flag,
The Victims,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
Gang Green,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül II,
Moby Grape,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gladiators,
Bronski Beat,
The Blues Magoos,
E-Dancer,
Agitation Free,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Kerri Chandler,
The Durutti Column,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hardrive,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter & Gordon,
Duran Duran,
Crispy Ambulance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Section 25,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
Alphaville,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
The Litter,
The Black Dice,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Japan,
Skriet,
Supertramp,
Bauhaus,
Erykah Badu,
The Star Department,
Warren Ellis,
Kayak,
Public Enemy,
Marine Girls,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.