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 Mexico and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 The Misunderstood to the techno 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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Quando Quango,
Scion,
Depeche Mode,
Rekid,
The Litter,
June of 44,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
Spandau Ballet,
Darondo,
Gong,
Hardrive,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Junior Murvin,
The Barracudas,
Amazonics,
Sällskapet,
Ronnie Foster,
Tears for Fears,
the Bar-Kays,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Chrome,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kenny Larkin,
Roy Ayers,
The Misunderstood,
The Blackbyrds,
Marmalade,
The Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Alice Coltrane,
Animal Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
June Days,
Fluxion,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ken Boothe,
New Age Steppers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
Davy DMX,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alphaville,
The Standells,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.