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 France and from Spokane.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Erasure to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
Barry Ungar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
AZ,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Radio Birdman,
Faraquet,
Liliput,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Essential Logic,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-102,
Gang Starr,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
U.S. Maple,
the Slits,
Magazine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stetsasonic,
Supertramp,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
Isaac Hayes,
Godley & Creme,
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Archie Shepp,
The Beau Brummels,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
KRS-One,
Visage,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moleskins,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
Prince Buster,
John Holt,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.