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 United States and from Copenhagen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Suicide to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
The Move,
Cluster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Clear Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thompson Twins,
Graham Central Station,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Television Personalities,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Supertramp,
Hot Snakes,
Lyres,
Japan,
China Crisis,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bush Tetras,
the Association,
Faraquet,
Boz Scaggs,
Zero Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
Iggy Pop,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blake Baxter,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
Janne Schatter,
The Tremeloes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angry Samoans,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters,
Ralphi Rosario,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
Tim Buckley,
The Litter,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
Kaleidoscope,
Schoolly D,
Grauzone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.