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 Gambia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terry Callier to the punk 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Count Five,
Deakin,
Rufus Thomas,
Eden Ahbez,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
Bang On A Can,
FM Einheit,
Deadbeat,
Flash Fearless,
Darondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Barry Ungar,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Absolute Body Control,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Kayak,
The Golliwogs,
Peter & Gordon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
The Human League,
Maurizio,
Simply Red,
The Kinks,
Bobby Womack,
KRS-One,
Q65,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jerry's Kids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
kango's stein massive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Judy Mowatt,
Aswad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Christie,
The Blues Magoos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dark Day,
Pole,
Joey Negro,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.