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 Turkey and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
June Days,
Soft Cell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
Average White Band,
John Foxx,
Mission of Burma,
CMW,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Pantaleimon,
the Association,
Barbara Tucker,
Erykah Badu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Associates,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultravox,
Laurel Aitken,
Warsaw,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Ponytail,
Prince Buster,
Absolute Body Control,
Iggy Pop,
kango's stein massive,
The Gun Club,
Lindisfarne,
Al Stewart,
Ohio Players,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
One Last Wish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Royal Trux,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps,
Jacob Miller,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yaz,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blancmange,
Colin Newman,
The United States of America,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Gong,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
Sight & Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.