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 Finland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Robert Palmer 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 James White and The Blacks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Letta Mbulu,
Shoche,
FM Einheit,
Rotary Connection,
Anthony Braxton,
Carl Craig,
The Flesh Eaters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scan 7,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Amazonics,
Model 500,
Motorama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
The Angels of Light,
Tom Boy,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
Peter & Gordon,
Lungfish,
Swans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Au Pairs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Faust,
Mark Hollis,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pop Group,
Country Teasers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Kayak,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul Sonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
Outsiders,
Public Enemy,
Sixth Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vladislav Delay,
The Residents,
Drexciya,
Visage,
Albert Ayler,
Moss Icon,
Qualms,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.