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 Comoros and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Swell Maps,
Monolake,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Surgeon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
Smog,
The Doors,
Animal Collective,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
the Germs,
Jeff Mills,
Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Martian,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Dead Boys,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Maleditus Sound,
Radiohead,
Young Marble Giants,
Los Fastidios,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Procol Harum,
Lower 48,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
The Invisible,
Peter & Gordon,
Colin Newman,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Faraquet,
Outsiders,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Rod Modell,
AZ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.