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 Luxembourg and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T. Rex to the punk 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Albert Ayler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris & Cosey,
Cluster,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dave Gahan,
Liliput,
Quantec,
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans,
The Walker Brothers,
Erasure,
Crooked Eye,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Josef K,
Lou Reed,
Oneida,
The J.B.'s,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roxy Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
The Star Department,
Whodini,
H. Thieme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
The Cure,
Barry Ungar,
Shuggie Otis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
Guru Guru,
MC5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Starr,
the Human League,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.