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 Senegal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 The Red Krayola 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Max Romeo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
Eden Ahbez,
Sparks,
Davy DMX,
Rotary Connection,
Inner City,
Soft Machine,
Joey Negro,
Lucky Dragons,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Crime,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scion,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Fraelich,
Carl Craig,
Lightning Bolt,
Masters at Work,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Detroit Cobras,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Names,
Dark Day,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
The Mojo Men,
Eurythmics,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
LL Cool J,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Standells,
Siglo XX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.