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 Vietnam and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Patti Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Kenny Larkin,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Lungfish,
Gong,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Buckinghams,
Con Funk Shun,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
The Busters,
Nick Fraelich,
Tears for Fears,
Sister Nancy,
Thompson Twins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dead Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Von Mondo,
Flash Fearless,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
La Düsseldorf,
Grauzone,
The Zeros,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Bananas,
Dual Sessions,
The Gladiators,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Piero Umiliani,
Desert Stars,
Hashim,
The Black Dice,
Can,
Youth Brigade,
The Last Poets,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Q65,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Victims,
Magazine,
Derrick May,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.