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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 dance 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
The Standells,
Deadbeat,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
The Beau Brummels,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cure,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
Camberwell Now,
Saccharine Trust,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
PIL,
Joensuu 1685,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Pantaleimon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Michelle Simonal,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Yaz,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funkadelic,
Shuggie Otis,
Sällskapet,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers,
The Busters,
The Cramps,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eurythmics,
LL Cool J,
Gregory Isaacs,
MDC,
T.S.O.L.,
The Selecter,
Flipper,
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Supertramp,
Groovy Waters,
Scrapy,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.