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 New Zealand and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 Magma to the jazz 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
The Birthday Party,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cal Tjader,
UT,
Loose Ends,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Teasers,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
The Searchers,
Icehouse,
Sound Behaviour,
Marshall Jefferson,
Godley & Creme,
Interpol,
Smog,
Sparks,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Fad Gadget,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
Roger Hodgson,
the Normal,
Rod Modell,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
Intrusion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Wells,
Hot Snakes,
JFA,
David Bowie,
Sam Rivers,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
Dawn Penn,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Quando Quango,
Anthony Braxton,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultravox,
Spoonie Gee,
Ken Boothe,
Mr. Review,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
The Red Krayola,
Scott Walker,
Make Up,
MDC,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.