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 Lagos.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mad Mike to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
Joy Division,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Slits,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
cv313,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Dorothy Ashby,
Symarip,
Q and Not U,
Ten City,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Pierre Henry,
World's Most,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Rod Modell,
The Sonics,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
The Walker Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dead C,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
The Modern Lovers,
Warsaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Red Krayola,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Pus,
Scientists,
Drexciya,
The Fall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
Ponytail,
Eli Mardock,
Crash Course in Science,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.