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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Gladiators to the crunk 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Divine Comedy,
Kenny Larkin,
The Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
Deakin,
Au Pairs,
Depeche Mode,
Pulsallama,
Slick Rick,
Faraquet,
kango's stein massive,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Desert Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fatback Band,
The Index,
Technova,
Crispy Ambulance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harmonia,
Alton Ellis,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Albert Ayler,
Arcadia,
The Victims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angry Samoans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Japan,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick Morgan,
Davy DMX,
Josef K,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moebius,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.