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 Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Aloha Tigers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Wyatt,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
The Doors,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
Leonard Cohen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tears for Fears,
David Axelrod,
Cymande,
The Gap Band,
Robert Hood,
The Cramps,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Anthony Braxton,
Nirvana,
Cybotron,
Siglo XX,
Cluster,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Goldenarms,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
Eddi Front,
Ludus,
Arab on Radar,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Archie Shepp,
The Martian,
Bill Wells,
The Kinks,
Bang On A Can,
The Music Machine,
Pagans,
Pole,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Dolphy,
Crooked Eye,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moleskins,
DJ Sneak,
Ultra Naté,
Fad Gadget,
Intrusion,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.