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 Niger and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Sällskapet to the techno 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Parry Music,
Funkadelic,
Gichy Dan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sound Behaviour,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Audionom,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
Kaleidoscope,
Anakelly,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Max Romeo,
Pulsallama,
Arcadia,
Fluxion,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Eve St. Jones,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
Depeche Mode,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Eric Copeland,
New Order,
Darondo,
Morten Harket,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
Vladislav Delay,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lyres,
Banda Bassotti,
Terry Callier,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Human League,
Kas Product,
Mad Mike,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.