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 Switzerland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Blues Magoos to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti 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 rap 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Rapeman,
the Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
Rites of Spring,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blake Baxter,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eli Mardock,
The Walker Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Wolf Eyes,
Yusef Lateef,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Bootsy Collins,
The Techniques,
Television Personalities,
Janne Schatter,
Main Source,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
The Monks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Angels of Light,
Nils Olav,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102,
UT,
Todd Terry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiohead,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ituana,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.