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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 The Gladiators to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Wasted Youth,
Schoolly D,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Bowie,
Boredoms,
Marine Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Christie,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Outsiders,
Crime,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bang On A Can,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
Slave,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nas,
Lakeside,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fugs,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
Letta Mbulu,
Andrew Hill,
Panda Bear,
Television Personalities,
Eli Mardock,
The Five Americans,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
The Standells,
Althea and Donna,
Jawbox,
Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Y Pants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camouflage,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.