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 Pakistan and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television Personalities to the grime 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
48th St. Collective,
Harmonia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ludus,
Hoover,
The New Christs,
Fluxion,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scion,
Harpers Bizarre,
D'Angelo,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Flash Fearless,
Skarface,
Quantec,
The Velvet Underground,
Junior Murvin,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sound Behaviour,
Brick,
China Crisis,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Inner City,
R.M.O.,
Jandek,
Carl Craig,
Lalann,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Slits,
AZ,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
Yusef Lateef,
Mad Mike,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Tremeloes,
Soulsonic Force,
Sister Nancy,
Brass Construction,
Second Layer,
Kurtis Blow,
Marine Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.