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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Rod Modell,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Von Mondo,
The Red Krayola,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Procol Harum,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
The Martian,
Siglo XX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Foxx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Soft Machine,
Massinfluence,
Soulsonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cure,
Deadbeat,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ronan,
DJ Sneak,
Josef K,
Young Marble Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Zeros,
Kool Moe Dee,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Qualms,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nico,
Althea and Donna,
Faust,
Bauhaus,
Dark Day,
Mandrill,
Popol Vuh,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.