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 New Zealand and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Radio Birdman,
Rod Modell,
Chris & Cosey,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eurythmics,
The Real Kids,
Dead Boys,
Silicon Teens,
H. Thieme,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
The Beau Brummels,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Misunderstood,
Newcleus,
Hashim,
Amazonics,
June Days,
The Searchers,
Vainqueur,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Neon Judgement,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy,
Das Ding,
Clear Light,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
The Leaves,
Aaron Thompson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mummies,
Y Pants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Icehouse,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Almond,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Can,
Eric Dolphy,
Tubeway Army,
Sister Nancy,
Massinfluence,
Suicide,
Mr. Review,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.