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 Uruguay and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Cameo to the grime 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
The Tremeloes,
The Trojans,
Joe Finger,
Khruangbin,
Johnny Clarke,
Los Fastidios,
Spandau Ballet,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Circle Jerks,
Roger Hodgson,
Minor Threat,
Ultravox,
Mr. Review,
Animal Collective,
Sandy B,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lyres,
Slick Rick,
Hoover,
Marine Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Walker Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Y Pants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
MC5,
Terry Callier,
The Buckinghams,
Tommy Roe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tres Demented,
Deepchord,
Pagans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skriet,
The Fugs,
Easy Going,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C,
Gang of Four,
L. Decosne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Oblivians,
The Barracudas,
The Monks,
Adolescents,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
The Smiths,
Crime,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.