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 Botswana and from Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Siglo XX to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Almond,
Charles Mingus,
Glenn Branca,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Oneida,
The Happenings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dave Gahan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Axelrod,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cheater Slicks,
The Golliwogs,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smoke,
Junior Murvin,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan,
The Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
Con Funk Shun,
Faust,
The Monochrome Set,
Crime,
Scientists,
Surgeon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dual Sessions,
Al Stewart,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Red Krayola,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
These Immortal Souls,
Traffic Nightmare,
AZ,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
Anakelly,
The Vogues,
Los Fastidios,
Bauhaus,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.