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 Belize and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alison Limerick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
The Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
The Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Ultra Naté,
Bad Manners,
Rekid,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
The Index,
Mr. Review,
Sarah Menescal,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Saints,
Bobby Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
Nirvana,
Soul II Soul,
Freddie Wadling,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Halsall,
Henry Cow,
Danielle Patucci,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec,
Circle Jerks,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Juan Atkins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Livin' Joy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
Lou Reed,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
The Remains,
Terrestrial Tones,
Isaac Hayes,
Adolescents,
The Tremeloes,
The Dirtbombs,
Chris & Cosey,
Depeche Mode,
Deakin,
John Foxx,
Dennis Brown,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.