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 Egypt and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Lydon to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
Grey Daturas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalann,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
Swell Maps,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxy Music,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
Eli Mardock,
Cybotron,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
Khruangbin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moleskins,
Organ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Young Marble Giants,
The Trojans,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
Derrick Morgan,
Subhumans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Germs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Underground Resistance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scan 7,
Boogie Down Productions,
Au Pairs,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
Fluxion,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.