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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Trojans to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Ludus,
The Associates,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Connie Case,
UT,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Wire,
Pole,
John Holt,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
China Crisis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aural Exciters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
Neil Young,
Roxette,
Arcadia,
Tomorrow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
John Coltrane,
Vainqueur,
Curtis Mayfield,
The New Christs,
Bauhaus,
E-Dancer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crooked Eye,
Sight & Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
The Stooges,
Nik Kershaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Icehouse,
The Happenings,
A Certain Ratio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thee Headcoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
The Durutti Column,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.