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 United Kingdom and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DNA to the crunk 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Mills,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Andrew Hill,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
Cymande,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fall,
Nas,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Flag,
Main Source,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Amazonics,
F. McDonald,
kango's stein massive,
Joe Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Fatback Band,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
The Gun Club,
Faust,
John Cale,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Magma,
Banda Bassotti,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Yaz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
Animal Collective,
The Black Dice,
Dave Gahan,
The Moody Blues,
Mark Hollis,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.