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 Burkina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 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 Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sällskapet to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gladiators,
Simply Red,
The Alarm Clocks,
Schoolly D,
Popol Vuh,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
Talk Talk,
Deepchord,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
The Leaves,
Peter and Kerry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marmalade,
The Moody Blues,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Sonics,
Ossler,
Hoover,
Crime,
Junior Murvin,
The Real Kids,
MC5,
The Trojans,
The Seeds,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Excepter,
Soul II Soul,
Lungfish,
Pole,
Iggy Pop,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
Funky Four + One,
L. Decosne,
Juan Atkins,
Echospace,
The Vogues,
Ultravox,
Lebanon Hanover,
Public Image Ltd.,
Josef K,
Heaven 17,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.