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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Five Americans,
Cheater Slicks,
Prince Buster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Skatalites,
Neu!,
Camberwell Now,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Desert Stars,
Alphaville,
Rekid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ludus,
Mantronix,
Lakeside,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
Grauzone,
Loose Ends,
Nils Olav,
Joe Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Machine,
UT,
Josef K,
The Fall,
Black Bananas,
Vainqueur,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
The Mummies,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Pop Group,
Nick Fraelich,
Porter Ricks,
Agitation Free,
Lower 48,
Absolute Body Control,
Heaven 17,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Trumans Water,
Pagans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Jawbox,
One Last Wish,
The Names,
June of 44,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.