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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Warsaw,
Panda Bear,
Joe Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
Max Romeo,
Banda Bassotti,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magazine,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Josef K,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eddi Front,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Yaz,
The Gories,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
The Mummies,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
Glenn Branca,
Shoche,
MDC,
the Normal,
Fad Gadget,
The Walker Brothers,
John Cale,
Bill Near,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
Mission of Burma,
Boredoms,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
The Electric Prunes,
Infiniti,
Black Pus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Essential Logic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Smog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dawn Penn,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Divine Comedy,
Aswad,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Japan,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.