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 Sudan and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Rufus Thomas to the rock 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane 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?
David Bowie,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Swans,
Adolescents,
Glenn Branca,
Country Joe & The Fish,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ice-T,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
X-101,
The Vogues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skarface,
Essential Logic,
Severed Heads,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Joey Negro,
Ronan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Teasers,
Todd Rundgren,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers,
Soul II Soul,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
AZ,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Flash Fearless,
Hardrive,
Blancmange,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
Quando Quango,
The Neon Judgement,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
FM Einheit,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
Underground Resistance,
Outsiders,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.