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 Namibia and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 ABBA to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalann,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echospace,
Interpol,
Agitation Free,
The Smoke,
Stiv Bators,
The Move,
Average White Band,
the Germs,
Severed Heads,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves,
Gang Starr,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
X-Ray Spex,
Tommy Roe,
Animal Collective,
Lou Reed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
The Wake,
Letta Mbulu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angry Samoans,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
The Vogues,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
kango's stein massive,
The Standells,
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
Cabaret Voltaire,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Spoonie Gee,
Prince Buster,
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brass Construction,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Intrusion,
Surgeon,
June Days,
Negative Approach,
Amazonics,
The Invisible,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.