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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 The Dead C to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxy Music,
Bill Wells,
Black Pus,
Barbara Tucker,
Gichy Dan,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
Drexciya,
Bush Tetras,
Carl Craig,
Duran Duran,
Lalann,
Das Ding,
Half Japanese,
Symarip,
Robert Görl,
The Fortunes,
The Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Underground Resistance,
Funkadelic,
Masters at Work,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gun Club,
Swell Maps,
Loose Ends,
Eli Mardock,
Marvin Gaye,
Visage,
Bill Near,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
The Pretty Things,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultravox,
Skarface,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
Organ,
The Pop Group,
Sparks,
Roxette,
Archie Shepp,
Funky Four + One,
Morten Harket,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dennis Brown,
Thompson Twins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.