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 Papua New Guinea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
The Music Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxy Music,
Depeche Mode,
Television Personalities,
Ohio Players,
Camouflage,
Monks,
The Moleskins,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Technova,
Blossom Toes,
This Heat,
The Searchers,
Whodini,
Yusef Lateef,
PIL,
Lindisfarne,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
The Mummies,
a-ha,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Procol Harum,
H. Thieme,
John Holt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter & Gordon,
Alison Limerick,
Oblivians,
Severed Heads,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Saints,
Circle Jerks,
Junior Murvin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marshall Jefferson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.