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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Henry Cow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lower 48,
Morten Harket,
Lucky Dragons,
Excepter,
Cluster,
The Modern Lovers,
Chris Corsano,
Can,
The Moody Blues,
the Association,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pere Ubu,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aswad,
Harmonia,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sällskapet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Warsaw,
Symarip,
Barrington Levy,
Liliput,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed,
Davy DMX,
The American Breed,
Michelle Simonal,
Isaac Hayes,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-Ray Spex,
Dennis Brown,
Second Layer,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stetsasonic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
JFA,
Inner City,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Steve Hackett,
T.S.O.L.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.