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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Pagans to the electroclash 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arab on Radar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Glenn Branca,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
The Grass Roots,
The Cowsills,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Niagra,
Bad Manners,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joy Division,
The Gladiators,
UT,
James White and The Blacks,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
the Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sam Rivers,
Patti Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Coltrane,
Derrick May,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
The Real Kids,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
Derrick Morgan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
The Modern Lovers,
Erykah Badu,
Michelle Simonal,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heaven 17,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
Buzzcocks,
X-102,
Television,
Simply Red,
Minutemen,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.