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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
Deakin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monolake,
The Selecter,
The Doors,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slits,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
Symarip,
MDC,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
Parry Music,
Minor Threat,
Lyres,
Drive Like Jehu,
New York Dolls,
Boredoms,
The Gories,
Yusef Lateef,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
Visage,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bluetip,
Letta Mbulu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DJ Style,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dennis Brown,
The Count Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Banda Bassotti,
The Seeds,
the Slits,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.