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 Latvia and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Angels of Light to the disco 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Albert Ayler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hashim,
The Names,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Masters at Work,
MDC,
Technova,
Magazine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacques Brel,
The Fugs,
Man Parrish,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Jimmy McGriff,
CMW,
The Birthday Party,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chrome,
The Slackers,
The Black Dice,
DJ Style,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
Deepchord,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
Buzzcocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül,
Dead Boys,
Little Man,
This Heat,
Bush Tetras,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.