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 Barbados and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bluetip,
Bauhaus,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
The Human League,
Moss Icon,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Yazoo,
Nirvana,
Negative Approach,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soul II Soul,
Quadrant,
Khruangbin,
The Smoke,
The Martian,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
The Last Poets,
China Crisis,
Flash Fearless,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skarface,
Joyce Sims,
Scratch Acid,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange,
Amazonics,
UT,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Normal,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David McCallum,
Joy Division,
Kayak,
a-ha,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
cv313,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.