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 Marshall Islands and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Archie Shepp to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Drexciya,
The Monochrome Set,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Moon,
Television Personalities,
Altered Images,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
Liliput,
X-102,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
Chris Corsano,
Anthony Braxton,
Magma,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
the Bar-Kays,
Franke,
Bobby Byrd,
Tears for Fears,
Zero Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül II,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Alphaville,
The Remains,
Nas,
Blake Baxter,
E-Dancer,
Wolf Eyes,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
The J.B.'s,
The Moleskins,
Vainqueur,
Suburban Knight,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scott Walker,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Average White Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.