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 Tonga and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar 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 AZ to the grime 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Judy Mowatt,
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
X-102,
The Five Americans,
Nils Olav,
Japan,
Jacob Miller,
the Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cramps,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bush Tetras,
The Young Rascals,
Inner City,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus,
Essential Logic,
Jawbox,
the Association,
Mantronix,
June Days,
Groovy Waters,
Intrusion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Wake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cowsills,
Tim Buckley,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gong,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Curtis Mayfield,
10cc,
Altered Images,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Blancmange,
the Human League,
Chris & Cosey,
Nirvana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quadrant,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.