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 South and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Zero Boys to the dance 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Q65,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jesper Dahlback,
Von Mondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nico,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Moleskins,
Black Pus,
The Smiths,
The Kinks,
Eddi Front,
Hashim,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Byron Stingily,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Anthony Braxton,
Procol Harum,
Pole,
Aloha Tigers,
Porter Ricks,
Zero Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Sneak,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Kenny Larkin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Dark Day,
Mandrill,
David McCallum,
The Dirtbombs,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
Eli Mardock,
Wally Richardson,
Outsiders,
Scan 7,
Robert Wyatt,
Radiohead,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.