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 Afghanistan and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Television 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Babytalk,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
Black Pus,
Marmalade,
a-ha,
The Angels of Light,
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Germs,
Brass Construction,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
Saccharine Trust,
Mandrill,
The Evens,
Throbbing Gristle,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fortunes,
Godley & Creme,
Roy Ayers,
Cameo,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
The Dead C,
48th St. Collective,
Bob Dylan,
The United States of America,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
The Names,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Graham Central Station,
Scratch Acid,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Clarke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang of Four,
Aswad,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suburban Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sugar Minott,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
Mantronix,
World's Most,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.