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 Czech Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Yellowson,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
ABBA,
Skriet,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Joe Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
DNA,
Simply Red,
Magma,
Black Bananas,
Godley & Creme,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Q and Not U,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Second Layer,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
New Order,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
Aswad,
Basic Channel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Raincoats,
Outsiders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
Eli Mardock,
48th St. Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
LL Cool J,
Delta 5,
Adolescents,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
The Martian,
Camberwell Now,
Shoche,
Sixth Finger,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hasil Adkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.