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 Andorra and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blues Magoos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Terry Callier,
KRS-One,
Eurythmics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare,
Robert Hood,
Kurtis Blow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roxy Music,
Ultra Naté,
Absolute Body Control,
Boredoms,
Crooked Eye,
Whodini,
June of 44,
John Lydon,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
Soul Sonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Grauzone,
Hasil Adkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Jandek,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Babytalk,
LL Cool J,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
The Invisible,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Evens,
The Names,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
Bush Tetras,
Steve Hackett,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joy Division,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.