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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the dance 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
T. Rex,
Masters at Work,
Urselle,
Rekid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Accadde A,
Make Up,
The Busters,
The Zeros,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Spandau Ballet,
X-Ray Spex,
Lungfish,
Bluetip,
Cymande,
La Düsseldorf,
Circle Jerks,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
Junior Murvin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Arab on Radar,
The Smiths,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
Steve Hackett,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cheater Slicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
AZ,
The Doobie Brothers,
Visage,
Bronski Beat,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore,
Ponytail,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Parry Music,
cv313,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.