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 Marshall Islands and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Albert Ayler to the jazz 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Clear Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vainqueur,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Delta 5,
Desert Stars,
Skriet,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monks,
Ossler,
Electric Prunes,
Warren Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
Dead Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
Eddi Front,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Remains,
Urselle,
Cameo,
Rosa Yemen,
Outsiders,
Jeff Mills,
Depeche Mode,
Gabor Szabo,
James White and The Blacks,
Lightning Bolt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Silicon Teens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Black Dice,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Newcleus,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hashim,
Camberwell Now,
the Association,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alice Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Drive Like Jehu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.