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 Canada and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fort Wilson Riot 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Lightning Bolt,
ABC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Soft Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Terry Callier,
These Immortal Souls,
Essential Logic,
Guru Guru,
FM Einheit,
Saccharine Trust,
The Move,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Index,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
The United States of America,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pulsallama,
Lakeside,
Boredoms,
Scion,
Agitation Free,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
Urselle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
The Zeros,
D'Angelo,
The Golliwogs,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Smooth,
10cc,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Duran Duran,
Ralphi Rosario,
Laurel Aitken,
David McCallum,
The Cowsills,
Dual Sessions,
KRS-One,
Godley & Creme,
Young Marble Giants,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.