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 Gambia and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Severed Heads to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Anakelly,
Alison Limerick,
Ice-T,
Minnie Riperton,
the Germs,
Moby Grape,
Infiniti,
Robert Hood,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
Tom Boy,
Technova,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
kango's stein massive,
Outsiders,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
Essential Logic,
Alton Ellis,
The Fuzztones,
Aural Exciters,
Sun City Girls,
The Pop Group,
Crime,
Al Stewart,
The Blackbyrds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Neon Judgement,
Gichy Dan,
John Cale,
Magazine,
The Young Rascals,
Sister Nancy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vainqueur,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brothers Johnson,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
The Buckinghams,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick May,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
The Golliwogs,
Urselle,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
Bizarre Inc.,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.