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 New Zealand and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the disco 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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Marine Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
The Knickerbockers,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Juan Atkins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Freddie Wadling,
the Fania All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Carl Craig,
Depeche Mode,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Toasters,
Wire,
Scientists,
Whodini,
Yazoo,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
FM Einheit,
The Angels of Light,
Nirvana,
Tomorrow,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
Aswad,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Rufus Thomas,
Minny Pops,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
Eddi Front,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dead C,
Kenny Larkin,
kango's stein massive,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Little Man,
Sound Behaviour,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bob Dylan,
CMW,
New Order,
Pulsallama,
Patti Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Malaria!,
Bronski Beat,
Peter and Kerry,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.