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 Seychelles and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Five Americans to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Wings,
The Slits,
Warsaw,
U.S. Maple,
The Young Rascals,
Q65,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erykah Badu,
X-102,
The Mojo Men,
Kerrie Biddell,
Youth Brigade,
Interpol,
The Evens,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ohio Players,
The Red Krayola,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ken Boothe,
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
The Human League,
Don Cherry,
Chrome,
Excepter,
Ludus,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Marshall Jefferson,
Basic Channel,
Funkadelic,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ornette Coleman,
Parry Music,
The Smoke,
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Wire,
Rites of Spring,
David McCallum,
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Au Pairs,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.