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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Buzzcocks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Stetsasonic,
Harry Pussy,
John Cale,
Nils Olav,
The Music Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Surgeon,
Chris Corsano,
Subhumans,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Slits,
Little Man,
The Modern Lovers,
Visage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Steve Hackett,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Symarip,
This Heat,
Bill Near,
Alice Coltrane,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Niagra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Techniques,
Albert Ayler,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Flag,
Letta Mbulu,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mo-Dettes,
Ludus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Byrd,
the Fania All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mojo Men,
Nirvana,
Fad Gadget,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.