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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Buzzcocks to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Ralphi Rosario,
Big Daddy Kane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantaleimon,
Erasure,
Kurtis Blow,
New Order,
Rekid,
Make Up,
Janne Schatter,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dead C,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Byron Stingily,
The New Christs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bad Manners,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eddi Front,
Massinfluence,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
the Sonics,
Popol Vuh,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pulsallama,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Busters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Names,
Infiniti,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Charles Mingus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Khruangbin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
The Searchers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thompson Twins,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.