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 Ivory Coast and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arthur Verocai,
Marmalade,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Tears for Fears,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Sight & Sound,
Panda Bear,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Whodini,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Icehouse,
Eric B and Rakim,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dark Day,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Television,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
H. Thieme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
X-102,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Style,
Joey Negro,
Sam Rivers,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
Animal Collective,
T. Rex,
Black Moon,
The Names,
The Trojans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Intrusion,
The Martian,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.