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 Comoros and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
New Age Steppers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Bronski Beat,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stetsasonic,
Index,
Todd Terry,
Rufus Thomas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mandrill,
Sun City Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Quando Quango,
Derrick Morgan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young,
Animal Collective,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Khruangbin,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
The Cramps,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
the Slits,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jacob Miller,
Lucky Dragons,
One Last Wish,
Toni Rubio,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cecil Taylor,
The Toasters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sixth Finger,
Funky Four + One,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.