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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Detroit Cobras to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Bob Dylan,
Wings,
Henry Cow,
Dawn Penn,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Accadde A,
The Busters,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Warsaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
Brothers Johnson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Moss Icon,
Nils Olav,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
The New Christs,
Reagan Youth,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Real Kids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Parry Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Sheep,
Model 500,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Letta Mbulu,
Moebius,
Peter & Gordon,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
Quando Quango,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
David Axelrod,
Liliput,
Outsiders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faust,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.