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 Burundi 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen,
Goldenarms,
The Gun Club,
Carl Craig,
The Move,
The Toasters,
Colin Newman,
Sound Behaviour,
Basic Channel,
Kenny Larkin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Japan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
Dennis Brown,
Fluxion,
Bronski Beat,
Symarip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
Cluster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Names,
Motorama,
John Lydon,
Agitation Free,
Rufus Thomas,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anthony Braxton,
Nils Olav,
ABC,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fugs,
Smog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camberwell Now,
World's Most,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Birthday Party,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Smoke,
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
Howard Jones,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
the Fania All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cybotron,
Masters at Work,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.