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 Armenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 This Heat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar,
The Fortunes,
Marvin Gaye,
ABBA,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
The Skatalites,
Clear Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
The Golliwogs,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
The Victims,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Terry,
The Moody Blues,
Oblivians,
The Cure,
The Buckinghams,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Techniques,
Amon Düül II,
Slave,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire,
KRS-One,
The J.B.'s,
The Offenders,
The Happenings,
Jandek,
Pulsallama,
The Leaves,
Sarah Menescal,
The Real Kids,
Swans,
Amazonics,
The Fuzztones,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gun Club,
Pole,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks,
Ossler,
Stetsasonic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick Morgan,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Groovy Waters,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.