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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Sheep to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Albert Ayler,
Animal Collective,
Ten City,
Silicon Teens,
The Offenders,
Howard Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
E-Dancer,
Rotary Connection,
The Beau Brummels,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Symarip,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boz Scaggs,
Sandy B,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
Y Pants,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Smiths,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
Scan 7,
Anakelly,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
The Star Department,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Q65,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Altered Images,
Robert Hood,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lower 48,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Toasters,
Derrick May,
Don Cherry,
Chrome,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.