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 Tunisia and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marshall Jefferson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantytec,
Wings,
Agitation Free,
Lakeside,
David Axelrod,
Hashim,
Groovy Waters,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
The Tremeloes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Starr,
The Happenings,
The Zeros,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
Ludus,
Anthony Braxton,
OOIOO,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Rakim,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
The Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Minutemen,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
New Order,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cheater Slicks,
Drexciya,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marmalade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barry Ungar,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.