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 Venezuela and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Smog to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Liliput,
Sun Ra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
Desert Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Moebius,
Brand Nubian,
Royal Trux,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Brick,
Tres Demented,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tears for Fears,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
The Moleskins,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
Ken Boothe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Newcleus,
Dawn Penn,
The Knickerbockers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Sonics,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Swell Maps,
Wolf Eyes,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Intrusion,
Pantytec,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Surgeon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slackers,
Depeche Mode,
The Sound,
Ludus,
Scientists,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Starr,
D'Angelo,
ABC,
The Tremeloes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doors,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.