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 Malawi and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dave Gahan to the punk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Offenders,
The Martian,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spoonie Gee,
Graham Central Station,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
Kas Product,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Görl,
Popol Vuh,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
The Saints,
Charles Mingus,
Eddi Front,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
The Fuzztones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Roxy Music,
Tim Buckley,
Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
Silicon Teens,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
Funkadelic,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Subhumans,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sugar Minott,
Sonic Youth,
Surgeon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
the Normal,
The Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.