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 Guatemala and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Roxy Music to the dance 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Make Up,
The Young Rascals,
The Trojans,
Dark Day,
Arthur Verocai,
DNA,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Clarke,
Whodini,
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Barbara Tucker,
Fad Gadget,
the Bar-Kays,
The Birthday Party,
Eden Ahbez,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
The Doors,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc,
Yaz,
Maurizio,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
X-102,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Goldenarms,
Sällskapet,
Cal Tjader,
Glenn Branca,
The Sonics,
Rod Modell,
The Cramps,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Graham Central Station,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
Faust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Flipper,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.