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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Real Kids to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster,
Visage,
Bill Near,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Surgeon,
FM Einheit,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
T.S.O.L.,
Monks,
Rotary Connection,
The Happenings,
Technova,
Bauhaus,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
Das Ding,
Altered Images,
The Moleskins,
Basic Channel,
Graham Central Station,
Rapeman,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
The Monochrome Set,
Ten City,
Neil Young,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harry Pussy,
Pantaleimon,
Royal Trux,
the Bar-Kays,
The Saints,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick,
Organ,
Don Cherry,
Joyce Sims,
Cluster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Wake,
Cecil Taylor,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Index,
Aaron Thompson,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.