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 Philippines and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Gang Starr to the crunk 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Barbara Tucker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wasted Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lungfish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Organ,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Excepter,
Los Fastidios,
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Starr,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
Essential Logic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Blake Baxter,
The Leaves,
Warren Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
The Blues Magoos,
Cameo,
Sparks,
The Modern Lovers,
Sixth Finger,
Motorama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roy Ayers,
John Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brass Construction,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brothers Johnson,
Stetsasonic,
Unwound,
Ultravox,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Black Pus,
Matthew Halsall,
Schoolly D,
Bluetip,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Wake,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.