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 Denmark and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 La Düsseldorf to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
Boz Scaggs,
JFA,
Jacob Miller,
X-101,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
Carl Craig,
Magma,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Hood,
Laurel Aitken,
Depeche Mode,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
The Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Quantec,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
The Fall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arcadia,
Janne Schatter,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
R.M.O.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moleskins,
DJ Style,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Flipper,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
AZ,
EPMD,
The Gories,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.