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 Vanuatu and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Cure to the punk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
Q and Not U,
Cluster,
The Zeros,
Cheater Slicks,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camouflage,
The Slackers,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Grass Roots,
Young Marble Giants,
Second Layer,
Theoretical Girls,
Adolescents,
Shuggie Otis,
Funkadelic,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Depeche Mode,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Niagra,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Görl,
Rekid,
The Raincoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Leaves,
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
ABBA,
Los Fastidios,
Bauhaus,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
Gong,
The Young Rascals,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Hill,
X-101,
Sam Rivers,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minny Pops,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.