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 Qatar and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Mark Hollis to the punk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Colin Newman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-101,
kango's stein massive,
The Gladiators,
Franke,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Technova,
Deakin,
Liliput,
Bad Manners,
Newcleus,
Quando Quango,
Groovy Waters,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxy Music,
The Cowsills,
Shoche,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donny Hathaway,
Mad Mike,
Little Man,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Icehouse,
Eden Ahbez,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Music Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Henry Cow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
Cal Tjader,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-102,
Babytalk,
Neil Young,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
The Monks,
Janne Schatter,
Mandrill,
The Slits,
Joensuu 1685,
the Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Audionom,
Porter Ricks,
The Index,
F. McDonald,
Bronski Beat,
Youth Brigade,
Brick,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.