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 Togo and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Nation of Ulysses 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Excepter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Second Layer,
One Last Wish,
Althea and Donna,
Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Glenn Branca,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hardrive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
R.M.O.,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Adolescents,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kurtis Blow,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Zero Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
Hashim,
Magazine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Animal Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
Scion,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Connie Case,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.