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 Benin and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grass Roots to the jazz 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick May,
Scott Walker,
Fear,
Public Enemy,
Carl Craig,
Roxy Music,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Freddie Wadling,
Pet Shop Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Josef K,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Heaven 17,
Make Up,
the Association,
Wire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
Nils Olav,
Depeche Mode,
Letta Mbulu,
Nirvana,
Pantytec,
Sex Pistols,
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Althea and Donna,
Arcadia,
Sam Rivers,
The Barracudas,
Au Pairs,
Suicide,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
Eli Mardock,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Tommy Roe,
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers,
Newcleus,
Deadbeat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Bananas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Mars,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.