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 Nepal and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Visage to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
The Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wings,
Minnie Riperton,
Sound Behaviour,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
U.S. Maple,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed,
Lower 48,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Copeland,
Underground Resistance,
The Fall,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
The Trojans,
The Star Department,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tres Demented,
Little Man,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Black Dice,
Deepchord,
Eddi Front,
The Smiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Moody Blues,
Talk Talk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
Accadde A,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blancmange,
Todd Rundgren,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.