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 Thailand and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Amon Düül II to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Loose Ends,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
The Gladiators,
Public Enemy,
Das Ding,
Steve Hackett,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Slick Rick,
Boredoms,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
Angry Samoans,
Urselle,
The Victims,
Accadde A,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
Cameo,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Qualms,
Gichy Dan,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
Agent Orange,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hashim,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül II,
Altered Images,
Gang Green,
Erykah Badu,
The Mummies,
Marc Almond,
The Techniques,
Rakim,
Joyce Sims,
Dawn Penn,
Yazoo,
Rod Modell,
E-Dancer,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MC5,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Minor Threat,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.