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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Guru Guru to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Dirtbombs,
Lucky Dragons,
Joensuu 1685,
Magazine,
Boz Scaggs,
The Stooges,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Dolphy,
Cheater Slicks,
Donald Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Angry Samoans,
Television Personalities,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
Guru Guru,
Rekid,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Mark Hollis,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Josef K,
K-Klass,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Hill,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Stereo Dub,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Massinfluence,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
Das Ding,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
Grauzone,
Ultravox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare,
Danielle Patucci,
John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
The Martian,
Section 25,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
The Moleskins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
The Skatalites,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.