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 Kyrgyzstan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Reed to the dance 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
T.S.O.L.,
Q and Not U,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sound,
Mars,
Suicide,
The Misunderstood,
the Swans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ludus,
Scratch Acid,
Kurtis Blow,
The Happenings,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
Magazine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
Aural Exciters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Carl Craig,
Skarface,
Das Ding,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flash Fearless,
The Monochrome Set,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Funky Four + One,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Agitation Free,
Terry Callier,
The Searchers,
Anthony Braxton,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Lyres,
U.S. Maple,
Joensuu 1685,
The Walker Brothers,
Jacques Brel,
Television Personalities,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.