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 Croatia and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Amon Düül II to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantytec,
Moby Grape,
Visage,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms,
Max Romeo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonic Youth,
Marine Girls,
Outsiders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amazonics,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Marc Almond,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
The Litter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Piero Umiliani,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pole,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boredoms,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Skarface,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
Schoolly D,
Silicon Teens,
Youth Brigade,
Newcleus,
Intrusion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Absolute Body Control,
Basic Channel,
Mars,
David McCallum,
Suburban Knight,
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Age Steppers,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.