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 Kenya and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nik Kershaw to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Ronan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Music Machine,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Crooked Eye,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Sandy B,
Mantronix,
The Slits,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Loose Ends,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
CMW,
D'Angelo,
JFA,
Crash Course in Science,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
La Düsseldorf,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
L. Decosne,
Intrusion,
Lyres,
Lakeside,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry's Kids,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
The Real Kids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Mills,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Germs,
The Cure,
Kayak,
Bobby Womack,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
ABBA,
The Pretty Things,
The Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Connie Case,
Barbara Tucker,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.