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 Cape Verde and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Cramps to the dance 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Negative Approach,
John Coltrane,
The New Christs,
Minor Threat,
Little Man,
Cymande,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
Lungfish,
Brothers Johnson,
Jandek,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Ronnie Foster,
Hardrive,
The Mummies,
Lou Christie,
Warren Ellis,
Black Pus,
Davy DMX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Quantec,
John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
Skriet,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Deadbeat,
The Happenings,
Monolake,
Quando Quango,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eddi Front,
Max Romeo,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
Pussy Galore,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
Saccharine Trust,
Minutemen,
Dave Gahan,
Echospace,
The Durutti Column,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Inner City,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.