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 Senegal and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Little Man to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Barry Ungar,
Intrusion,
The Young Rascals,
the Normal,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
the Soft Cell,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MC5,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
Ohio Players,
Loose Ends,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
Scan 7,
H. Thieme,
The J.B.'s,
John Foxx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Toasters,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
FM Einheit,
Bad Manners,
Sound Behaviour,
Grauzone,
Bronski Beat,
Mark Hollis,
Surgeon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mad Mike,
Boredoms,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick Morgan,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
The Blackbyrds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brothers Johnson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter & Gordon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
Japan,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.