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 Botswana and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Max Romeo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultra Naté,
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
The Residents,
Quadrant,
The New Christs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anakelly,
Boredoms,
Steve Hackett,
Rhythm & Sound,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
the Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
Mars,
Deadbeat,
Moss Icon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blancmange,
John Foxx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks,
Colin Newman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smoke,
The Neon Judgement,
Dead Boys,
The Standells,
The Birthday Party,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lower 48,
The Litter,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
Banda Bassotti,
Zero Boys,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.