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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Howard Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donald Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed,
Circle Jerks,
Duran Duran,
Warren Ellis,
Lalann,
Byron Stingily,
Monolake,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
The Associates,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Clear Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Chris & Cosey,
Cymande,
The Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Womack,
The Fall,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ituana,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
Aloha Tigers,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Leonard Cohen,
Section 25,
Jandek,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
PIL,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
David Bowie,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronnie Foster,
Charles Mingus,
The Black Dice,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.