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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Joey Negro to the rock 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
Mars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
Man Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mojo Men,
Cluster,
David Axelrod,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nation of Ulysses,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
Malaria!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blake Baxter,
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
Aswad,
Grauzone,
David McCallum,
The Names,
Johnny Clarke,
Stiv Bators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young,
Godley & Creme,
Thee Headcoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Reagan Youth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Althea and Donna,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.