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 Finland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Television,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
Alice Coltrane,
Brothers Johnson,
Shoche,
Smog,
Delta 5,
Deadbeat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sister Nancy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
Jeff Lynne,
Pulsallama,
Lou Christie,
Freddie Wadling,
Symarip,
The Index,
Duran Duran,
Harmonia,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
Don Cherry,
Silicon Teens,
Leonard Cohen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lyres,
The Happenings,
UT,
Roxy Music,
Boredoms,
Ultravox,
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
The Moleskins,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Dennis Brown,
Zapp,
Wasted Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.