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 Tuvalu and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bar-Kays to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Kayak 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Offenders,
Leonard Cohen,
Quando Quango,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
Tres Demented,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bluetip,
Chrome,
Country Teasers,
The Divine Comedy,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Interpol,
Faraquet,
Darondo,
Parry Music,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New Age Steppers,
Neil Young,
Quantec,
Suburban Knight,
The Mummies,
Depeche Mode,
Sight & Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Vogues,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Dave Gahan,
Ituana,
Outsiders,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
Tim Buckley,
Jandek,
Minor Threat,
Jimmy McGriff,
EPMD,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swans,
Ponytail,
The New Christs,
Black Moon,
Trumans Water,
Angry Samoans,
Junior Murvin,
The Seeds,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.