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 Antigua and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
The Mummies,
Flipper,
World's Most,
Mission of Burma,
The Leaves,
The Zeros,
Bizarre Inc.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Urselle,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Metal Thangz,
Crime,
Lindisfarne,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
Radio Birdman,
Rites of Spring,
The Cure,
Hashim,
Man Parrish,
Nirvana,
Smog,
Loose Ends,
Yaz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
the Association,
June Days,
The Golliwogs,
Skarface,
The Cramps,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soulsonic Force,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Warren Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
OOIOO,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
cv313,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bluetip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Delta 5,
Todd Rundgren,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.