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 Algeria and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Neil Young,
Tim Buckley,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
the Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Wake,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
Godley & Creme,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Flash Fearless,
Lindisfarne,
Ronnie Foster,
Colin Newman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Faraquet,
T.S.O.L.,
Scrapy,
Sandy B,
Rod Modell,
Juan Atkins,
Von Mondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Simply Red,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
Barrington Levy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Japan,
The Martian,
The Star Department,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Thompson Twins,
The Mummies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
David Axelrod,
Robert Hood,
Radiohead,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moebius,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sound,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.