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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Television to the jazz 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
The Victims,
Ossler,
cv313,
Ohio Players,
Neil Young,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
Unwound,
The Real Kids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minutemen,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Marmalade,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
The Pretty Things,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
The Doors,
The Divine Comedy,
Albert Ayler,
Easy Going,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Josef K,
Second Layer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultravox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.