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 Haiti and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba 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 MC5 to the techno 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Pere Ubu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry's Kids,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quantec,
DJ Style,
Wally Richardson,
Echospace,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Sherman,
World's Most,
Judy Mowatt,
Eric Copeland,
Ten City,
The Standells,
Isaac Hayes,
Rod Modell,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Leonard Cohen,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dawn Penn,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Cale,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
The Evens,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks,
The Gories,
Skaos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric B and Rakim,
Clear Light,
Supertramp,
In Retrospect,
Young Marble Giants,
Alton Ellis,
Gang of Four,
X-Ray Spex,
The American Breed,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
Hot Snakes,
Cecil Taylor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.