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 Cambodia and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Bobby Byrd to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 disco 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
Yellowson,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Reed,
Can,
Soft Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eddi Front,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
Marshall Jefferson,
Idris Muhammad,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Görl,
Delta 5,
Dark Day,
The Cramps,
Pylon,
Make Up,
The Seeds,
Monolake,
The J.B.'s,
Erykah Badu,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
June of 44,
X-102,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Popol Vuh,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hasil Adkins,
Byron Stingily,
Pantytec,
John Lydon,
Eurythmics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
Pierre Henry,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.