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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Fire Engines to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Intrusion,
Alphaville,
Tommy Roe,
Model 500,
ABC,
Archie Shepp,
Quadrant,
Johnny Clarke,
Vladislav Delay,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
The Cowsills,
Minny Pops,
Organ,
Niagra,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
Althea and Donna,
Television Personalities,
Radio Birdman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moleskins,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Sandy B,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
Supertramp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
Essential Logic,
Slick Rick,
Hardrive,
Television,
DNA,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Basic Channel,
Funkadelic,
Bill Near,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The J.B.'s,
Ultra Naté,
The Moody Blues,
Slave,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
Thee Headcoats,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.