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 Madagascar and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Supertramp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
Man Parrish,
Whodini,
Slick Rick,
Nick Fraelich,
Ohio Players,
The Five Americans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Harmonia,
The Fugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Fatback Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Camouflage,
Neu!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Happenings,
Desert Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Altered Images,
cv313,
D'Angelo,
Jerry's Kids,
Anthony Braxton,
Symarip,
Newcleus,
Essential Logic,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick Morgan,
Nils Olav,
Skarface,
Ultra Naté,
Hot Snakes,
Oblivians,
Parry Music,
Niagra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fear,
Soulsonic Force,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.