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 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Sound Behaviour to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Black Sheep,
Tommy Roe,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Hill,
The Walker Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Sparks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Pylon,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
The Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Loose Ends,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gladiators,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ohio Players,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Spandau Ballet,
Inner City,
Khruangbin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Age Steppers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Green,
Quando Quango,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Brothers Johnson,
Desert Stars,
Grauzone,
Yaz,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
Robert Görl,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
The Zeros,
Minutemen,
The Vogues,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.