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 Czech Republic 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 UT to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Mo-Dettes,
Fatback Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Rekid,
Flipper,
Wally Richardson,
Delta 5,
Graham Central Station,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dennis Brown,
Niagra,
Jacob Miller,
Audionom,
Black Pus,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Gichy Dan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Con Funk Shun,
UT,
Hot Snakes,
John Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Hood,
Albert Ayler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Skarface,
Neu!,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass,
Television,
Monolake,
Aswad,
Bauhaus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wire,
Altered Images,
The Five Americans,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Swell Maps,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.