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 Togo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 Ken Boothe to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Tremeloes,
The Knickerbockers,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-Ray Spex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Brothers Johnson,
Funky Four + One,
The Seeds,
Lightning Bolt,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
the Bar-Kays,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul Sonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Babytalk,
Groovy Waters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Angels of Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Index,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Shuggie Otis,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Toasters,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Procol Harum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harmonia,
Grey Daturas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra,
John Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Associates,
Mission of Burma,
Main Source,
Mark Hollis,
Khruangbin,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.