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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba 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 Desert Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Aural Exciters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sarah Menescal,
The Doors,
Shuggie Otis,
Q65,
KRS-One,
Blake Baxter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Mo-Dettes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stiv Bators,
FM Einheit,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gabor Szabo,
Camberwell Now,
Tubeway Army,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Christie,
Bluetip,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
The Durutti Column,
Audionom,
Dennis Brown,
Kas Product,
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
Khruangbin,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
Mantronix,
Junior Murvin,
Agent Orange,
Subhumans,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed,
The New Christs,
Electric Prunes,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Sex Pistols,
Pantytec,
The Walker Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.