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 Morocco and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smiths to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Flag,
Nik Kershaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smoke,
Dual Sessions,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cowsills,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
Arab on Radar,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
Agitation Free,
The Toasters,
MDC,
Kerri Chandler,
Con Funk Shun,
Lungfish,
The Standells,
Josef K,
Chris Corsano,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic,
Gang Green,
Jacob Miller,
Nico,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Zero Boys,
John Foxx,
John Holt,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cure,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Unrelated Segments,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
Cameo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
T.S.O.L.,
Faust,
DNA,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.