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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
48th St. Collective,
Japan,
John Holt,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
Minny Pops,
Radiopuhelimet,
Buzzcocks,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Pulsallama,
Agitation Free,
the Slits,
Desert Stars,
Television,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
The Standells,
Spoonie Gee,
Intrusion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The American Breed,
The Residents,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABC,
Soul II Soul,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
The Litter,
Bobby Sherman,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rakim,
The Star Department,
DNA,
Chrome,
Ronnie Foster,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Swans,
Q and Not U,
Magazine,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris & Cosey,
James White and The Blacks,
Terry Callier,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.