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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 The Real Kids to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Mad Mike,
Rhythm & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Ossler,
Rufus Thomas,
Newcleus,
Audionom,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erasure,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pussy Galore,
The Wake,
Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Arthur Verocai,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dual Sessions,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
T. Rex,
Darondo,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Soft Machine,
Interpol,
Wally Richardson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drexciya,
The Remains,
The Litter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Circle Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Starr,
The Doors,
Nas,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
Janne Schatter,
Anakelly,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
Sonic Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Excepter,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.