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 Sweden and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Neu! to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
H. Thieme,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Offenders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Halsall,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
Junior Murvin,
Technova,
Cybotron,
Laurel Aitken,
Minny Pops,
Moss Icon,
Rapeman,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
Monolake,
Slave,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Quando Quango,
The Count Five,
The Pop Group,
the Soft Cell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Sneak,
Underground Resistance,
Hashim,
Loose Ends,
Gang Gang Dance,
Babytalk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
the Sonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echospace,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
Index,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faust,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gun Club,
Von Mondo,
David McCallum,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Eddi Front,
Funkadelic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.