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 Morocco and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Quantec,
DJ Sneak,
Model 500,
Stetsasonic,
Silicon Teens,
Gastr Del Sol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quando Quango,
Arab on Radar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Animal Collective,
Flipper,
Fluxion,
Albert Ayler,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
One Last Wish,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
Cecil Taylor,
Prince Buster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Main Source,
Godley & Creme,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
Chris Corsano,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Ken Boothe,
Suburban Knight,
Quadrant,
Robert Görl,
Marcia Griffiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-Ray Spex,
Pole,
La Düsseldorf,
The Stooges,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Fela Kuti,
Simply Red,
Dennis Brown,
The Dead C,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
ABBA,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.