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 East Timor and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Joe Finger,
Kayak,
Rosa Yemen,
Siglo XX,
Anthony Braxton,
Boredoms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slackers,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Soulsonic Force,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
U.S. Maple,
Radio Birdman,
The Moody Blues,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
OOIOO,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
In Retrospect,
the Normal,
Kurtis Blow,
Interpol,
Theoretical Girls,
The Moleskins,
Sun City Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mars,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
E-Dancer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Five Americans,
Hashim,
Q65,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.