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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Standells to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
The Five Americans,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Byron Stingily,
Dawn Penn,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
X-102,
Fela Kuti,
Pagans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Leaves,
The Red Krayola,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Echospace,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cybotron,
New York Dolls,
Cluster,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men,
Chrome,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Rosa Yemen,
La Düsseldorf,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yellowson,
Scion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Christie,
Excepter,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
The Neon Judgement,
K-Klass,
Joensuu 1685,
John Holt,
Amazonics,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.