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 Algeria and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Theoretical Girls 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Interpol,
The New Christs,
Albert Ayler,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Minnie Riperton,
Aloha Tigers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pagans,
Freddie Wadling,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Bill Wells,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Das Ding,
Deepchord,
The Moody Blues,
L. Decosne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barrington Levy,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
The Invisible,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
New York Dolls,
Talk Talk,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
Joey Negro,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grauzone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Association,
Lindisfarne,
Suburban Knight,
Rotary Connection,
Bad Manners,
Delta 5,
Deakin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Quantec,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.