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 Congo and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Whodini to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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?
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ornette Coleman,
Boz Scaggs,
Hot Snakes,
Delta 5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
Ossler,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
Hashim,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
Mantronix,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Young Marble Giants,
Pylon,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
Oneida,
Surgeon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
The Sonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Susan Cadogan,
Aural Exciters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Mad Mike,
New Age Steppers,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quadrant,
Morten Harket,
Faust,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronan,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.