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 Dominica and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Desert Stars to the electroclash 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Gun Club,
The Leaves,
Section 25,
The Slackers,
Malaria!,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Second Layer,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Sheep,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
Aloha Tigers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q and Not U,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Bananas,
June Days,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yaz,
Visage,
Ponytail,
KRS-One,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Funky Four + One,
The Kinks,
Excepter,
the Sonics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gladiators,
Alison Limerick,
X-101,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Letta Mbulu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
K-Klass,
Half Japanese,
Blake Baxter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
Audionom,
Byron Stingily,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.