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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Magma to the jazz 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
The Fugs,
Marc Almond,
Country Teasers,
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül II,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
Symarip,
June Days,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Index,
Audionom,
The Five Americans,
Roger Hodgson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Standells,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Dennis Brown,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June of 44,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Judy Mowatt,
Graham Central Station,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Talk Talk,
Television Personalities,
Wings,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Suicide,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
Robert Hood,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blackbyrds,
Marvin Gaye,
Iggy Pop,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
X-102,
The Wake,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.