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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sam Rivers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Gang of Four,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiohead,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bang On A Can,
The Mojo Men,
Scrapy,
Chris & Cosey,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cameo,
Black Pus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Drexciya,
New Order,
Simply Red,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jawbox,
The Wake,
Quando Quango,
Ronan,
Yaz,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tres Demented,
The Five Americans,
Q and Not U,
Panda Bear,
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Lindisfarne,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
Brass Construction,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Sonics,
Symarip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Little Man,
The Count Five,
The Tremeloes,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.