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 Papua New Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Seeds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare,
Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Boredoms,
10cc,
Funkadelic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
Terry Callier,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skriet,
The Busters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
David Bowie,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultra Naté,
Pierre Henry,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
the Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Arthur Verocai,
Visage,
Kayak,
The Litter,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nirvana,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple,
Moss Icon,
E-Dancer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sex Pistols,
Althea and Donna,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
The Smoke,
The Cramps,
World's Most,
Mark Hollis,
Moby Grape,
The Barracudas,
ABC,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.