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 Guatemala and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Dead C to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arthur Verocai,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Brand Nubian,
Vladislav Delay,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks,
Groovy Waters,
Mission of Burma,
Minutemen,
Erasure,
Mars,
Eve St. Jones,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
The Grass Roots,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
Supertramp,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
Iggy Pop,
Peter and Kerry,
Jerry's Kids,
Bad Manners,
Black Flag,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
CMW,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scrapy,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo,
Tim Buckley,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David Bowie,
Yellowson,
Gang Green,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eddi Front,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magma,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
K-Klass,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.