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 San Marino and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Joe Finger to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultravox,
Depeche Mode,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Robert Görl,
The Music Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
Icehouse,
10cc,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
Delon & Dalcan,
Urselle,
Lou Christie,
Underground Resistance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Index,
Organ,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Bourne,
Steve Hackett,
Symarip,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Finger,
Supertramp,
La Düsseldorf,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
Kerri Chandler,
Yazoo,
Bang On A Can,
Rosa Yemen,
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
The Fuzztones,
Suicide,
the Slits,
Livin' Joy,
The Happenings,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Au Pairs,
Moss Icon,
Whodini,
The Monks,
Eden Ahbez,
Quantec,
Joe Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.