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 Syria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gastr Del Sol 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gichy Dan,
Danielle Patucci,
Warren Ellis,
Mission of Burma,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Invisible,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Malaria!,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
K-Klass,
The Saints,
Minor Threat,
The Kinks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Almond,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Gang of Four,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
Smog,
Chris Corsano,
The Doors,
Lou Reed,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
The Busters,
Excepter,
Accadde A,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
Black Moon,
Donny Hathaway,
Eli Mardock,
Brick,
David McCallum,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monks,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.