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 Lesotho and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rekid to the electroclash 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Style,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
Stiv Bators,
The Misunderstood,
Parry Music,
The Mojo Men,
Index,
Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
Symarip,
The Saints,
Average White Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Sight & Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Zapp,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
Judy Mowatt,
the Soft Cell,
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
The Pretty Things,
Rekid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Lynne,
Terry Callier,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
Quantec,
Jimmy McGriff,
K-Klass,
LL Cool J,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.