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 Somalia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Second Layer to the crunk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
Das Ding,
DJ Style,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
A Certain Ratio,
The Walker Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Section 25,
Franke,
Monolake,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
cv313,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
In Retrospect,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Jacob Miller,
Marine Girls,
John Holt,
The Beau Brummels,
Althea and Donna,
Skarface,
The Golliwogs,
Aaron Thompson,
Hardrive,
The Vogues,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Archie Shepp,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter and Kerry,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun City Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Chrome,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
Curtis Mayfield,
Young Marble Giants,
Colin Newman,
Slave,
Bad Manners,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.