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 Germany and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Young Marble Giants 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sex Pistols,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rekid,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Iggy Pop,
The Gories,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Alphaville,
Moby Grape,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
the Fania All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
JFA,
Mo-Dettes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
Fela Kuti,
Spoonie Gee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roger Hodgson,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Wells,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Los Fastidios,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wings,
Maleditus Sound,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Outsiders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fluxion,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The American Breed,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.