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 Uganda and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Slits to the rock 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Al Stewart,
Magazine,
Reuben Wilson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Order,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
The Saints,
Mars,
Bootsy Collins,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Niagra,
Amazonics,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Smoke,
10cc,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cameo,
The Skatalites,
The Searchers,
DNA,
Ituana,
Crime,
Matthew Bourne,
the Human League,
Althea and Donna,
Tom Boy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Model 500,
Howard Jones,
Massinfluence,
Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moody Blues,
David McCallum,
Pantytec,
Metal Thangz,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Victims,
Yellowson,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
The Buckinghams,
This Heat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.