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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Faust 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Copeland,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pierre Henry,
Babytalk,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Average White Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Smog,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
Pantaleimon,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dead C,
Rekid,
These Immortal Souls,
Scrapy,
Robert Wyatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harmonia,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
Jeff Mills,
The Searchers,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New Order,
Moebius,
the Swans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mojo Men,
Morten Harket,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-Ray Spex,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.