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 Germany and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crispy Ambulance to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masters at Work,
The Cowsills,
The Moleskins,
Michelle Simonal,
K-Klass,
The Barracudas,
This Heat,
Surgeon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
Sun Ra,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Enemy,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MDC,
Monks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
the Swans,
Youth Brigade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q65,
Quantec,
LL Cool J,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Quadrant,
Charles Mingus,
The Gories,
Japan,
Spoonie Gee,
Banda Bassotti,
Main Source,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Darondo,
Neu!,
kango's stein massive,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.