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 Moldova and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
The Pretty Things,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
Charles Mingus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
The Victims,
Swans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
The Skatalites,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Scientists,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Zapp,
Eli Mardock,
Slave,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ponytail,
Yaz,
Siglo XX,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Qualms,
Can,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Crooked Eye,
John Lydon,
Pere Ubu,
Zero Boys,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Selecter,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
The Red Krayola,
The Move,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.