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 Korea South and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 New York Dolls to the rock 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Pole,
Half Japanese,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Standells,
Essential Logic,
Whodini,
Laurel Aitken,
Harry Pussy,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Grey Daturas,
The Red Krayola,
Throbbing Gristle,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sonic Youth,
Make Up,
Mr. Review,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
The Gories,
Prince Buster,
This Heat,
Graham Central Station,
Anakelly,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Negative Approach,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Mary Jane Girls,
Technova,
Robert Görl,
Ludus,
Blake Baxter,
Roxy Music,
Sister Nancy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Agent Orange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Groovy Waters,
Urselle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Little Man,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
Fela Kuti,
the Germs,
Peter & Gordon,
Skaos,
The Evens,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.