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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 The Martian to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
The Walker Brothers,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Severed Heads,
David McCallum,
Jacob Miller,
Trumans Water,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
One Last Wish,
Minutemen,
Lindisfarne,
Warsaw,
John Lydon,
Bob Dylan,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
10cc,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Cybotron,
The American Breed,
The Victims,
The Trojans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Pretty Things,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slits,
Mars,
Tres Demented,
Flipper,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Lynne,
UT,
Suburban Knight,
the Association,
Soul II Soul,
Lower 48,
Toni Rubio,
DJ Style,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Goldenarms,
Jerry's Kids,
Monks, Monks, Monks, 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.