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 Malawi and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 David McCallum to the disco 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Sherman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neu!,
Franke,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
K-Klass,
Yellowson,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mojo Men,
Joyce Sims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Rapeman,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Clear Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Thee Headcoats,
John Lydon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang of Four,
The Birthday Party,
The Monochrome Set,
June Days,
Stiv Bators,
The Walker Brothers,
The Kinks,
Grauzone,
The Cure,
Andrew Hill,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
Brass Construction,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ossler,
Can,
Suburban Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Mantronix,
Pantaleimon,
Flash Fearless,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.