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 Chad and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Dead C to the punk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
Pantytec,
Ultravox,
Jacques Brel,
The Grass Roots,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris & Cosey,
CMW,
The Martian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scion,
John Foxx,
Bootsy Collins,
FM Einheit,
Yusef Lateef,
Dual Sessions,
Can,
Roy Ayers,
Erykah Badu,
Fugazi,
Michelle Simonal,
Isaac Hayes,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Hasil Adkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arcadia,
Von Mondo,
Public Enemy,
Motorama,
the Normal,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Blackbyrds,
Sixth Finger,
Ituana,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Model 500,
Ornette Coleman,
Gichy Dan,
Cameo,
Theoretical Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.