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 Luxembourg and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
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 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 David Bowie 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 OOIOO to the electroclash 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mad Mike,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Delta 5,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Velvet Underground,
Wire,
Simply Red,
Minnie Riperton,
D'Angelo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Bauhaus,
kango's stein massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cheater Slicks,
Essential Logic,
H. Thieme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Trumans Water,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ken Boothe,
Peter and Kerry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris Corsano,
The Smoke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Slits,
The Index,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
Johnny Osbourne,
Whodini,
Blancmange,
The Invisible,
DNA,
Pole,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.