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 Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 World's Most to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Derrick May,
Aloha Tigers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pierre Henry,
Lightning Bolt,
Al Stewart,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerri Chandler,
Tim Buckley,
Steve Hackett,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lucky Dragons,
The Standells,
Nico,
Fela Kuti,
Sparks,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Iggy Pop,
Moss Icon,
The Golliwogs,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yusef Lateef,
The Misunderstood,
Drexciya,
the Swans,
Suicide,
Funkadelic,
Icehouse,
Basic Channel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
Con Funk Shun,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lower 48,
Radiohead,
The Velvet Underground,
Magazine,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Sneak,
The Electric Prunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scratch Acid,
Buzzcocks,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Gichy Dan,
Albert Ayler,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.