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 Guinea-Bissau and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Accadde A to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Joyce Sims,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gun Club,
Half Japanese,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
Ultravox,
Yaz,
Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
a-ha,
Sister Nancy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pretty Things,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Panda Bear,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
Black Bananas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Surgeon,
Kenny Larkin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Misunderstood,
The Last Poets,
The Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Shuggie Otis,
Niagra,
Fatback Band,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra,
Clear Light,
June Days,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin,
Hot Snakes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Remains,
Urselle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.