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 Honduras and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 PIL to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Morten Harket,
Can,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Schoolly D,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Christie,
Iggy Pop,
The Gap Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Freddie Wadling,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
Qualms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Association,
Underground Resistance,
Mr. Review,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
Zero Boys,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
Scion,
The Cure,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Clear Light,
Buzzcocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oneida,
Eric Copeland,
Tubeway Army,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blossom Toes,
Average White Band,
Minutemen,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fugs,
Jacob Miller,
Half Japanese,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.