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 Cuba and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Jeff Mills to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma,
the Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
Magma,
Interpol,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Godley & Creme,
Half Japanese,
The Searchers,
Steve Hackett,
Essential Logic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Swans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joyce Sims,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Doors,
Boogie Down Productions,
Urselle,
Tubeway Army,
Ituana,
Alton Ellis,
Prince Buster,
Babytalk,
Au Pairs,
Iggy Pop,
X-101,
Pulsallama,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gories,
The Blackbyrds,
Schoolly D,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scan 7,
Skaos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
Depeche Mode,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.