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 Korea North and from Toronto.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Josef K to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 spring reverb and an organ 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 güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
MC5,
Soft Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Trumans Water,
The Red Krayola,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
The Doors,
Icehouse,
Stereo Dub,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Charles Mingus,
Amazonics,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dual Sessions,
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Minor Threat,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Near,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Donny Hathaway,
Quadrant,
Rotary Connection,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
Barry Ungar,
Amon Düül II,
The Slits,
Lightning Bolt,
Deepchord,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
Au Pairs,
Rapeman,
Chrome,
The Saints,
Fela Kuti,
Sister Nancy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Negative Approach,
The Offenders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angry Samoans,
Supertramp,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.