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 Cuba and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rap 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Yaz,
David Axelrod,
Vladislav Delay,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
FM Einheit,
The Music Machine,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Agitation Free,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Marine Girls,
Babytalk,
Joey Negro,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gichy Dan,
Wings,
Q and Not U,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronan,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Darondo,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter,
JFA,
Interpol,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barbara Tucker,
New Age Steppers,
A Certain Ratio,
the Germs,
Black Bananas,
Nirvana,
Deadbeat,
EPMD,
Nico,
Dave Gahan,
The Happenings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cameo,
Rites of Spring,
Sällskapet,
Harry Pussy,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Order,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.