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 Israel and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 the Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
Skriet,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mandrill,
Anakelly,
Charles Mingus,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Christie,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Prunes,
The American Breed,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ituana,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
The Evens,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
Banda Bassotti,
Eddi Front,
The Saints,
Roger Hodgson,
kango's stein massive,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Franke,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neu!,
Altered Images,
Ice-T,
Matthew Halsall,
The Golliwogs,
Duran Duran,
Pantytec,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Young Marble Giants,
AZ,
Audionom,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Alice Coltrane,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
Index,
Aural Exciters,
The Young Rascals,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.