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 Burundi and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Faraquet,
Qualms,
Fat Boys,
Monks,
Pharoah Sanders,
UT,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick Morgan,
Blossom Toes,
Television,
The Moody Blues,
Pere Ubu,
Fad Gadget,
Tropical Tobacco,
Q65,
Cameo,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flipper,
Nation of Ulysses,
Whodini,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crooked Eye,
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Metal Thangz,
Fatback Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kenny Larkin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
Gichy Dan,
Ronan,
Franke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cluster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gun Club,
Pagans,
Lalann,
Ludus,
Lou Reed,
The Smoke,
MC5,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.