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 Luxembourg and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Captain Beefheart 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 UT to the crunk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ossler,
John Cale,
Leonard Cohen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Chrome,
Hashim,
Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Eve St. Jones,
Scion,
Icehouse,
The Real Kids,
Magazine,
the Normal,
Matthew Bourne,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eli Mardock,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Frankie Knuckles,
Darondo,
The Moleskins,
Adolescents,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
Roxette,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
Skaos,
Stiv Bators,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Parry Music,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
E-Dancer,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Wasted Youth,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.