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 Malawi and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Spandau Ballet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
The Kinks,
Fugazi,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kaleidoscope,
Animal Collective,
Suburban Knight,
OOIOO,
Ronnie Foster,
The Count Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
The Happenings,
T. Rex,
Leonard Cohen,
The Golliwogs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Barracudas,
Make Up,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lower 48,
Skarface,
The Blackbyrds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
UT,
Heaven 17,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Zeros,
Second Layer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
Public Enemy,
Janne Schatter,
X-Ray Spex,
Audionom,
Ronan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Trumans Water,
Althea and Donna,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Boz Scaggs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bauhaus,
Underground Resistance,
Bang On A Can,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.