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 Oman and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mr. Review to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
The Count Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lindisfarne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
The Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blake Baxter,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
Joensuu 1685,
LL Cool J,
The Walker Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masters at Work,
Q65,
Terry Callier,
Vladislav Delay,
Scan 7,
Bluetip,
June Days,
Davy DMX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Don Cherry,
Deadbeat,
John Coltrane,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
Inner City,
Adolescents,
Trumans Water,
Nirvana,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bad Manners,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stereo Dub,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.