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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Cale to the crunk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Warren Ellis,
cv313,
Livin' Joy,
Donald Byrd,
Al Stewart,
the Germs,
Thee Headcoats,
Sam Rivers,
Hashim,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Kaleidoscope,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
Judy Mowatt,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kayak,
Goldenarms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Starr,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Radiohead,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
The Evens,
The Busters,
Junior Murvin,
Heaven 17,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Procol Harum,
Unrelated Segments,
Marcia Griffiths,
Metal Thangz,
Henry Cow,
Brick,
Royal Trux,
Archie Shepp,
Aswad,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Finger,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Prince Buster,
The Last Poets,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
F. McDonald,
Harpers Bizarre,
Qualms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.