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 Libya and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 The Barracudas to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Harmonia,
The Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camberwell Now,
the Germs,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
The Human League,
The Wake,
The Move,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
This Heat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
Country Teasers,
Idris Muhammad,
Susan Cadogan,
Carl Craig,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Shoche,
Funkadelic,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
L. Decosne,
The Walker Brothers,
Quadrant,
Sex Pistols,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aural Exciters,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
Tubeway Army,
Pylon,
Motorama,
Jeff Mills,
In Retrospect,
Sam Rivers,
Quantec,
Tears for Fears,
Faust,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mandrill,
Alison Limerick,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.