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 Nepal and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Talk Talk to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Bang On A Can,
Tommy Roe,
Althea and Donna,
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joey Negro,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
PIL,
Danielle Patucci,
Porter Ricks,
Deakin,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
Spandau Ballet,
This Heat,
Agent Orange,
The Cosmic Jokers,
H. Thieme,
Isaac Hayes,
Kerri Chandler,
Idris Muhammad,
The Busters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hot Snakes,
Jeff Lynne,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Circle Jerks,
Faust,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.