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 Portugal and from Woodstock.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Visage to the funk 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Hill,
Japan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Dolphy,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wally Richardson,
the Association,
Henry Cow,
The Pretty Things,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Chrome,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Gang Dance,
Von Mondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Metal Thangz,
The Walker Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Sheep,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Groovy Waters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vainqueur,
Mission of Burma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amazonics,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Index,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.