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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cosmic Jokers to the techno 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
The Gladiators,
The Black Dice,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
Flash Fearless,
Negative Approach,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra,
Dead Boys,
Warsaw,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cure,
Gichy Dan,
Roxy Music,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eve St. Jones,
DNA,
Lakeside,
Unrelated Segments,
Yaz,
The Invisible,
Wolf Eyes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Raincoats,
Interpol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nick Fraelich,
E-Dancer,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boz Scaggs,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
Lindisfarne,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
Warren Ellis,
The Fugs,
Nik Kershaw,
Motorama,
Bronski Beat,
The Flesh Eaters,
48th St. Collective,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.