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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Whodini 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Cal Tjader,
Altered Images,
Boredoms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxette,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
Scott Walker,
Don Cherry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cure,
Khruangbin,
Das Ding,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pierre Henry,
Blake Baxter,
The Fuzztones,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
The Golliwogs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band,
Swell Maps,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
Yusef Lateef,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Niagra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Depeche Mode,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Motions,
L. Decosne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
June of 44,
John Lydon,
World's Most,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.