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 Mauritania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Josef K to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Tommy Roe,
The Move,
The Doors,
The Vogues,
Kurtis Blow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crooked Eye,
Toni Rubio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mantronix,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
Sonic Youth,
Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Halsall,
Second Layer,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
John Lydon,
Marc Almond,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maleditus Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glenn Branca,
Skarface,
Severed Heads,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker,
Popol Vuh,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roger Hodgson,
Moss Icon,
The Zeros,
Absolute Body Control,
ABBA,
Sex Pistols,
Supertramp,
Arthur Verocai,
The Smoke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.