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 Germany and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Tim Buckley to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Suburban Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Monks,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Invisible,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultravox,
ABBA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q65,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Trumans Water,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skriet,
Fear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Wyatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wire,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Talk Talk,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Goldenarms,
Yaz,
UT,
The Techniques,
kango's stein massive,
Jawbox,
Eli Mardock,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
JFA,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blues Magoos,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Almond,
The Toasters,
Grey Daturas,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.