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 Niger and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 The Dirtbombs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Yaz,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
The Monks,
Erykah Badu,
The Mojo Men,
Joey Negro,
Television Personalities,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slackers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monolake,
The Litter,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Laurel Aitken,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
David McCallum,
Franke,
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Leaves,
Surgeon,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
Bronski Beat,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
The Smoke,
The Cowsills,
Zapp,
Gang Starr,
Scratch Acid,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Erasure,
A Certain Ratio,
Eddi Front,
Model 500,
The Neon Judgement,
Drexciya,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
Au Pairs,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.