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 Liberia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Pierre Henry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Eli Mardock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
Fluxion,
The Invisible,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
FM Einheit,
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Y Pants,
Slick Rick,
Absolute Body Control,
Reuben Wilson,
Wings,
Das Ding,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nils Olav,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
The Cowsills,
Negative Approach,
Talk Talk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Make Up,
the Bar-Kays,
Tears for Fears,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Derrick Morgan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New York Dolls,
Rites of Spring,
Ponytail,
Banda Bassotti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
The Evens,
Youth Brigade,
Mantronix,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wolf Eyes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
X-102,
The Dirtbombs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.