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 Liechtenstein and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Thompson Twins to the electroclash 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Loose Ends,
Mars,
Qualms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slave,
World's Most,
Scientists,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Move,
The Human League,
Reuben Wilson,
The Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Con Funk Shun,
Mission of Burma,
Circle Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Ohio Players,
Sound Behaviour,
Simply Red,
Davy DMX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Smog,
Silicon Teens,
Gong,
Maurizio,
F. McDonald,
Letta Mbulu,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
The Five Americans,
U.S. Maple,
Schoolly D,
Agent Orange,
Faust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
The Knickerbockers,
Grey Daturas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Wells,
Blake Baxter,
Neu!,
The Misunderstood,
James White and The Blacks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The New Christs,
Technova,
The Toasters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gladiators,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.