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 Luxembourg and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Ultravox to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '90s.
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 Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Camberwell Now,
Easy Going,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Symarip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Flag,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker,
Ossler,
The Fuzztones,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
Excepter,
Deadbeat,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Barrington Levy,
Young Marble Giants,
Marmalade,
Charles Mingus,
Connie Case,
T.S.O.L.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gories,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
The Residents,
Iggy Pop,
Roger Hodgson,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantytec,
Lower 48,
Cybotron,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Barbara Tucker,
Joey Negro,
Althea and Donna,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.