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 New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Kerrie Biddell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The American Breed,
Hasil Adkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joyce Sims,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
Quadrant,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camouflage,
Cecil Taylor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Buckinghams,
Altered Images,
48th St. Collective,
F. McDonald,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
The Fugs,
Unwound,
Eve St. Jones,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Infiniti,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
Joy Division,
Sight & Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Deakin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
Urselle,
Henry Cow,
KRS-One,
The United States of America,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rakim,
Faust,
Lou Christie,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultra Naté,
The Blues Magoos,
Sarah Menescal,
Rosa Yemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blossom Toes,
Television,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Drexciya,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.