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 Madagascar and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Arthur Verocai to the disco 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Prince Buster,
Absolute Body Control,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Green,
the Bar-Kays,
Glenn Branca,
The Mighty Diamonds,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Suburban Knight,
Black Pus,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Amon Düül,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
The Birthday Party,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
Suicide,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
Excepter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blossom Toes,
Arcadia,
Dennis Brown,
Lightning Bolt,
Al Stewart,
Ituana,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slits,
Model 500,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Intrusion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Quadrant,
It's A Beautiful Day,
MC5,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.