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 Nicaragua and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Martian,
The Standells,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
Black Moon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Junior Murvin,
Public Enemy,
Marcia Griffiths,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott Heron,
EPMD,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
Anakelly,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quadrant,
Flash Fearless,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hasil Adkins,
Rapeman,
The Grass Roots,
Icehouse,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grauzone,
Dave Gahan,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Fraelich,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siglo XX,
John Cale,
Henry Cow,
The Count Five,
Eve St. Jones,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Kenny Larkin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smiths,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Görl,
The Happenings,
Youth Brigade,
Metal Thangz,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.