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 Hungary and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 DNA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Dennis Brown,
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Don Cherry,
cv313,
Cluster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cowsills,
World's Most,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
Japan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Franke,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Hoover,
Matthew Bourne,
Icehouse,
Lee Hazlewood,
Man Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Move,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
Laurel Aitken,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Green,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
Deakin,
Freddie Wadling,
Leonard Cohen,
Neu!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sparks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Lungfish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.