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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum 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 Eli Mardock to the disco 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Wings,
Eve St. Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oneida,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
One Last Wish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Saints,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Danielle Patucci,
Symarip,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Order,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deepchord,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris & Cosey,
Davy DMX,
UT,
Organ,
Ten City,
the Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
48th St. Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yaz,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Bourne,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Excepter,
Wire,
Sonic Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.