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 Lesotho and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Josef K to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Swell Maps,
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pagans,
Unwound,
Warsaw,
Qualms,
Supertramp,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Camberwell Now,
the Swans,
Intrusion,
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ornette Coleman,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Connie Case,
KRS-One,
Wolf Eyes,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Beau Brummels,
Whodini,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
H. Thieme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Delta 5,
Carl Craig,
Ohio Players,
Television,
Newcleus,
Iggy Pop,
JFA,
Nas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
Bauhaus,
Nick Fraelich,
Camouflage,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.