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 Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the techno 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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
The Divine Comedy,
Bush Tetras,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultra Naté,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
Nick Fraelich,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Green,
Niagra,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
Whodini,
Adolescents,
Interpol,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Wire,
OOIOO,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Wyatt,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mojo Men,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mission of Burma,
Sarah Menescal,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pole,
H. Thieme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shoche,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Scott Walker,
Laurel Aitken,
Young Marble Giants,
Panda Bear,
Marcia Griffiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.