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 Kazakhstan and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Sixth Finger,
Bad Manners,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nils Olav,
Clear Light,
Unrelated Segments,
Pulsallama,
Scott Walker,
World's Most,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suicide,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Swell Maps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Faust,
The Busters,
Black Bananas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Standells,
The Invisible,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
Graham Central Station,
Minutemen,
Isaac Hayes,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Arab on Radar,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
B.T. Express,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed,
James White and The Blacks,
Magma,
Barrington Levy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barbara Tucker,
Pussy Galore,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dead Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
Janne Schatter,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.