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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grime 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Slave,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gories,
Bluetip,
Stereo Dub,
X-Ray Spex,
Goldenarms,
Motorama,
Kayak,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Hoover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Trojans,
The United States of America,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Neon Judgement,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd,
Index,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Lynne,
Sound Behaviour,
Unrelated Segments,
Los Fastidios,
Anthony Braxton,
The Doors,
Lucky Dragons,
Laurel Aitken,
K-Klass,
Steve Hackett,
Simply Red,
Johnny Clarke,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Connie Case,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
FM Einheit,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
Morten Harket,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.