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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Fugs 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
Robert Görl,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Khruangbin,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
Yazoo,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
PIL,
The Cowsills,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Associates,
The Fugs,
Camberwell Now,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Pylon,
Massinfluence,
The Martian,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jandek,
Mars,
Ronnie Foster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
Trumans Water,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Don Cherry,
Thee Headcoats,
Can,
Tomorrow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.