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 Sweden and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Infiniti to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Move,
Slick Rick,
Half Japanese,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
Masters at Work,
Rufus Thomas,
Monks,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Blues Magoos,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Mark Hollis,
Charles Mingus,
Brick,
Black Flag,
Quantec,
Roger Hodgson,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kayak,
Y Pants,
Japan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Rod Modell,
Au Pairs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Can,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Derrick May,
Skarface,
Susan Cadogan,
Sex Pistols,
World's Most,
Icehouse,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Glenn Branca,
The Index,
Marc Almond,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.