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 Turkmenistan and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Divine Comedy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Magazine,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Can,
Thee Headcoats,
These Immortal Souls,
Howard Jones,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Görl,
Agent Orange,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
Bill Near,
Spandau Ballet,
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Metal Thangz,
Tropical Tobacco,
New Age Steppers,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül II,
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
Cal Tjader,
Don Cherry,
Arthur Verocai,
Nils Olav,
Sugar Minott,
Monks,
The Angels of Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Halsall,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABC,
Motorama,
Los Fastidios,
Hasil Adkins,
Television Personalities,
John Foxx,
John Cale,
Erasure,
U.S. Maple,
CMW,
The Neon Judgement,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Blues Magoos,
Banda Bassotti,
the Sonics,
The Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Junior Murvin,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.