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 Argentina and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 R.M.O. 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
Urselle,
Crooked Eye,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Sight & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Janne Schatter,
10cc,
Interpol,
Graham Central Station,
Scan 7,
Cal Tjader,
David McCallum,
The Searchers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
Monks,
Basic Channel,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
Simply Red,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
China Crisis,
Wolf Eyes,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
Buzzcocks,
Brass Construction,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
One Last Wish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cameo,
Quadrant,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Association,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.