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 South Africa and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Residents to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Wake,
Outsiders,
the Human League,
Ludus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neu!,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
Interpol,
Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nik Kershaw,
Rites of Spring,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Index,
Howard Jones,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Parry Music,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Hill,
Dennis Brown,
Zapp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harry Pussy,
Babytalk,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Aloha Tigers,
Derrick Morgan,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav,
Eurythmics,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ken Boothe,
Man Eating Sloth,
R.M.O.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
DJ Style,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Heaven 17,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
Second Layer,
The Toasters,
Au Pairs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Organ,
Skriet,
Little Man,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.