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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Underground Resistance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
FM Einheit,
Visage,
Oneida,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Von Mondo,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gabor Szabo,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
John Cale,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lower 48,
Blossom Toes,
E-Dancer,
Television,
Joe Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Infiniti,
Yazoo,
Andrew Hill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tim Buckley,
Moebius,
Loose Ends,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacques Brel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Basic Channel,
Davy DMX,
Sandy B,
Bronski Beat,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sound,
CMW,
Minor Threat,
Livin' Joy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
The Monochrome Set,
New Order,
Stetsasonic,
The Human League,
Nico,
Saccharine Trust,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.