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 Tonga and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
Isaac Hayes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Slave,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
ABBA,
Youth Brigade,
The Gun Club,
Gabor Szabo,
Sex Pistols,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
June Days,
Lou Reed,
The Gap Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Golliwogs,
The Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Gong,
Cymande,
John Holt,
Monolake,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smiths,
Mars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Schoolly D,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
The Raincoats,
The Monks,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
The Five Americans,
Malaria!,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Pylon,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.