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 Togo and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Goldenarms to the grime 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
Smog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tommy Roe,
Joensuu 1685,
Dorothy Ashby,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
Crime,
Tomorrow,
Dennis Brown,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Animal Collective,
Donald Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
D'Angelo,
Qualms,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Stiv Bators,
Scrapy,
Wasted Youth,
The Monks,
Severed Heads,
This Heat,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Accadde A,
David McCallum,
Peter and Kerry,
DJ Style,
Yaz,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June of 44,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Camouflage,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nico,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
the Slits,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.