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 Netherlands and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacob Miller,
Aloha Tigers,
The Monks,
Q and Not U,
Yellowson,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
Sparks,
Con Funk Shun,
Rotary Connection,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Average White Band,
Neil Young,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Bar-Kays,
Gichy Dan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Banda Bassotti,
Quantec,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
Yazoo,
Pylon,
World's Most,
Yaz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ten City,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
Scratch Acid,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
Second Layer,
The Selecter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
Derrick May,
Porter Ricks,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily,
Essential Logic,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.