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 Tajikistan and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the techno 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Associates,
Massinfluence,
Althea and Donna,
Pulsallama,
Quadrant,
Crispy Ambulance,
Duran Duran,
Newcleus,
Smog,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Guru Guru,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Davy DMX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
LL Cool J,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
Rites of Spring,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis,
Yusef Lateef,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
the Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Busters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Magma,
The Human League,
Tommy Roe,
Mission of Burma,
Audionom,
Tomorrow,
The Last Poets,
The Grass Roots,
Ken Boothe,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Quantec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Sheep,
Kayak,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Moon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bronski Beat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donald Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Throbbing Gristle,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.