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 Italy and from Seoul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the funk 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 arpeggiator and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bronski Beat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maurizio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Sixth Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
Sight & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Flash Fearless,
UT,
The Victims,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
The Move,
Metal Thangz,
Q and Not U,
The Moody Blues,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners,
New Age Steppers,
Matthew Halsall,
Sarah Menescal,
Niagra,
the Germs,
Darondo,
Rotary Connection,
Oneida,
Minny Pops,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
Lakeside,
Wings,
The Motions,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neil Young,
The Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Buckinghams,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Infiniti,
Heaven 17,
The Litter,
FM Einheit,
Barrington Levy,
The Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Wasted Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.