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 Tanzania and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blues Magoos to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Faraquet,
Rapeman,
Radiohead,
Black Moon,
Alphaville,
The Leaves,
David McCallum,
X-Ray Spex,
the Association,
Kurtis Blow,
Tres Demented,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gong,
John Holt,
Camberwell Now,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unrelated Segments,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pylon,
Subhumans,
Mandrill,
Bill Near,
The Grass Roots,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pretty Things,
Blancmange,
T.S.O.L.,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scientists,
Avey Tare,
The Vogues,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Victims,
the Slits,
Organ,
Model 500,
Chrome,
Henry Cow,
Nick Fraelich,
Lower 48,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
E-Dancer,
Skarface,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Ponytail,
Black Pus,
Visage,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flipper,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.