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 Greece and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bad Manners to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Style,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Zero Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Average White Band,
Gang Green,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
The Associates,
Popol Vuh,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chrome,
Spoonie Gee,
Lakeside,
Television,
Unrelated Segments,
Kaleidoscope,
Roxette,
Ossler,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Alton Ellis,
Josef K,
Fear,
Altered Images,
Goldenarms,
Masters at Work,
Scientists,
Mission of Burma,
Charles Mingus,
The Modern Lovers,
The Moleskins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultravox,
Los Fastidios,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Moss Icon,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alphaville,
Sun Ra,
Warsaw,
The Fortunes,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Sherman,
The Seeds,
Connie Case,
Al Stewart,
Faust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
the Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Soul II Soul,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.