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 Marshall Islands and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Panda Bear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cymande,
Eurythmics,
Quadrant,
Anthony Braxton,
Fela Kuti,
The Remains,
Aural Exciters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Fad Gadget,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Unwound,
Bobby Sherman,
Duran Duran,
Mo-Dettes,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Niagra,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brick,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Oblivians,
Fat Boys,
Lindisfarne,
The Cowsills,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Guru Guru,
Youth Brigade,
Reagan Youth,
The Last Poets,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Knickerbockers,
Essential Logic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Urselle,
Pantaleimon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Drexciya,
D'Angelo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
The Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Visage,
Pussy Galore,
Camberwell Now,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.