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 Nepal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bill Near to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Tommy Roe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
Al Stewart,
The Cramps,
Matthew Bourne,
Bronski Beat,
Kool Moe Dee,
Adolescents,
Thompson Twins,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Maurizio,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Little Man,
The Happenings,
Arcadia,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Wire,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker,
The Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Brass Construction,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Arab on Radar,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
New York Dolls,
Archie Shepp,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Freddie Wadling,
Quadrant,
Average White Band,
Au Pairs,
Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Moby Grape,
Mark Hollis,
Royal Trux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delta 5,
Schoolly D,
Los Fastidios,
World's Most,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.