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 Bangladesh and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 David Bowie 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 Hot Snakes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Sixth Finger,
cv313,
Black Bananas,
Al Stewart,
Sun City Girls,
The Happenings,
DNA,
Rites of Spring,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Litter,
Slave,
A Certain Ratio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Flag,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marvin Gaye,
The Saints,
Popol Vuh,
The Dead C,
The Associates,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aural Exciters,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacques Brel,
Pierre Henry,
Cybotron,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Misunderstood,
Monolake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brand Nubian,
the Normal,
Rufus Thomas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Faust,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Josef K,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Alice Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Human League,
Maleditus Sound,
The Last Poets,
Main Source,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Rotary Connection,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.