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 Malawi and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Television Personalities to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Neu!,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
Swell Maps,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Erasure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
the Bar-Kays,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sällskapet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Little Man,
DNA,
Massinfluence,
The Black Dice,
The Victims,
Nils Olav,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
Althea and Donna,
Wally Richardson,
Black Flag,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Sandy B,
Maleditus Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
D'Angelo,
Reagan Youth,
Moss Icon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joey Negro,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Motorama,
Symarip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
In Retrospect,
The Invisible,
Grauzone,
Faust,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Black Moon,
Connie Case,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.