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 Romania and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wolf Eyes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Deadbeat,
R.M.O.,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terry Callier,
Ponytail,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Copeland,
Al Stewart,
Kas Product,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
Nils Olav,
The Cure,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
The J.B.'s,
The Doors,
Ornette Coleman,
Dennis Brown,
Severed Heads,
Soul Sonic Force,
Howard Jones,
Livin' Joy,
The Real Kids,
Average White Band,
Ohio Players,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yazoo,
Moby Grape,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scan 7,
Mad Mike,
Mantronix,
Magma,
Monolake,
Trumans Water,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Michelle Simonal,
JFA,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fall,
cv313,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gong,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.