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 Israel and from Accra.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 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 Los Fastidios to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Barracudas,
Deadbeat,
Barclay James Harvest,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
The Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Public Enemy,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
Peter & Gordon,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
This Heat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mission of Burma,
The Moody Blues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Altered Images,
Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Chris Corsano,
Skriet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grey Daturas,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
One Last Wish,
Accadde A,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
the Association,
The Golliwogs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Dolphy,
Depeche Mode,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
Bush Tetras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.