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 Lebanon and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
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 organ 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 The Saints to the rap 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All the Slits 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Thompson Twins,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soft Machine,
Clear Light,
Man Parrish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Move,
the Human League,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
The Seeds,
CMW,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sonny Sharrock,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Hill,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
June of 44,
Technova,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
Skarface,
EPMD,
The Dirtbombs,
Terry Callier,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blancmange,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ten City,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.