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 Morocco and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Young Marble Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Model 500,
Duran Duran,
The Leaves,
Yaz,
LL Cool J,
Magazine,
Shoche,
Kurtis Blow,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang On A Can,
Franke,
The Monks,
The Modern Lovers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Average White Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Letta Mbulu,
Minor Threat,
cv313,
Kaleidoscope,
The Names,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
Danielle Patucci,
Los Fastidios,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Warsaw,
Liliput,
Faust,
Amon Düül II,
Archie Shepp,
Kerri Chandler,
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
Jandek,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
F. McDonald,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smiths,
the Association,
Rufus Thomas,
The Count Five,
Darondo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
Eden Ahbez,
Agitation Free,
Amazonics,
Quadrant,
Chrome,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.