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 Taiwan and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin 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 Robert Hood to the jazz 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
Masters at Work,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Selecter,
Alison Limerick,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Association,
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo,
The J.B.'s,
Charles Mingus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arcadia,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Essential Logic,
Lalann,
Wire,
Silicon Teens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Surgeon,
Brand Nubian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ken Boothe,
Eric Copeland,
Adolescents,
Dennis Brown,
Patti Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tim Buckley,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
The Leaves,
The Offenders,
Alphaville,
Los Fastidios,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.