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 Ghana and from New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Busters,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
Kevin Saunderson,
Zapp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Music Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Liliput,
David Bowie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Enemy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
The Techniques,
Popol Vuh,
The Gories,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move,
Chrome,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
Parry Music,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Bananas,
Shoche,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
a-ha,
The Divine Comedy,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.