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 Kiribati and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Busters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
E-Dancer,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Offenders,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rosa Yemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Popol Vuh,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aloha Tigers,
Depeche Mode,
The Real Kids,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
Black Sheep,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harry Pussy,
Main Source,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gong,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Zapp,
Fad Gadget,
Stereo Dub,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
K-Klass,
Agent Orange,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Basic Channel,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.