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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Neu! 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Cameo,
Chrome,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
Make Up,
Cluster,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nico,
The American Breed,
ABBA,
Funky Four + One,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiohead,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lyres,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Minnie Riperton,
Albert Ayler,
Terrestrial Tones,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sister Nancy,
Dennis Brown,
The Blackbyrds,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Mandrill,
Niagra,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Visage,
The Cramps,
D'Angelo,
Skarface,
Heaven 17,
DJ Style,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Lucky Dragons,
One Last Wish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Vogues,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.