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 Bolivia and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
The Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
Main Source,
the Human League,
Wally Richardson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Porter Ricks,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Kevin Saunderson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Half Japanese,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mad Mike,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Clarke,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Joensuu 1685,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Green,
Colin Newman,
The Young Rascals,
Tropical Tobacco,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
World's Most,
Nation of Ulysses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Associates,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Altered Images,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.