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 East Timor and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Graham Central Station to the techno 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Jawbox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Blossom Toes,
Newcleus,
Television Personalities,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Offenders,
The Cramps,
Joensuu 1685,
Bush Tetras,
Soul II Soul,
Unwound,
Scion,
Darondo,
Byron Stingily,
Adolescents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tim Buckley,
Q and Not U,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
MC5,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
Desert Stars,
The Young Rascals,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
Schoolly D,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
Freddie Wadling,
Grauzone,
Ultra Naté,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.