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 Gambia 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 K-Klass to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Evens,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rotary Connection,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
Swell Maps,
Deadbeat,
Schoolly D,
Clear Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Spoonie Gee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
Max Romeo,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Golliwogs,
The Moody Blues,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
Bluetip,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Womack,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
CMW,
Lou Christie,
The Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sällskapet,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
Sparks,
MC5,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
John Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.