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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 D'Angelo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Animal Collective,
The Standells,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tubeway Army,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Gong,
The Music Machine,
Anakelly,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barbara Tucker,
Theoretical Girls,
Scion,
Mary Jane Girls,
Essential Logic,
Los Fastidios,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
Freddie Wadling,
Panda Bear,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pere Ubu,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Intrusion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Maleditus Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Dennis Brown,
Sun City Girls,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Faust,
LL Cool J,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
Magma,
The Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
T. Rex,
ABC,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Peter and Kerry,
Chris Corsano,
Blancmange,
Yusef Lateef,
Curtis Mayfield,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Model 500,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalann,
Robert Hood,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.