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 Austria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sisters of Mercy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet 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 Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Andrew Hill,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
Make Up,
New Age Steppers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Raincoats,
The Alarm Clocks,
David McCallum,
Mandrill,
The Blackbyrds,
Skaos,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
Eurythmics,
Stereo Dub,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantytec,
Scion,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Colin Newman,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Byron Stingily,
Minny Pops,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Normal,
Flamin' Groovies,
Danielle Patucci,
The Associates,
Fluxion,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Moleskins,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aloha Tigers,
The Music Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Urselle,
Easy Going,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alphaville,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.