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 Ethiopia 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
48th St. Collective,
Stereo Dub,
the Human League,
Franke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boz Scaggs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Arthur Verocai,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Associates,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
The Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
Glambeats Corp.,
Organ,
Scrapy,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip,
Television,
Lalo Schifrin,
Amon Düül,
The Evens,
kango's stein massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
Barrington Levy,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Audionom,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Crime,
Unwound,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.