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 Eritrea and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
The Slits,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cameo,
Stereo Dub,
X-101,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
the Association,
Stetsasonic,
Second Layer,
Television,
Warren Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
The Names,
Derrick May,
Sällskapet,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bauhaus,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Kas Product,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
The Fall,
David Bowie,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suburban Knight,
Quadrant,
Silicon Teens,
Barry Ungar,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Porter Ricks,
Monolake,
Roxy Music,
The Fortunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.