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 Finland and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang Gang Dance to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
Pere Ubu,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry's Kids,
June Days,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MC5,
Newcleus,
Grey Daturas,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Germs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Main Source,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Excepter,
Godley & Creme,
Agent Orange,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
Supertramp,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Accadde A,
Japan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Roger Hodgson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rotary Connection,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharoah Sanders,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
DJ Sneak,
Leonard Cohen,
Colin Newman,
Joyce Sims,
UT,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cal Tjader,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.