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 Kyrgyzstan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Y Pants,
Siglo XX,
Jeff Mills,
Rites of Spring,
Joe Finger,
UT,
Soft Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lalann,
The Raincoats,
Spandau Ballet,
In Retrospect,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Judy Mowatt,
Yellowson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Terry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Idris Muhammad,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
Max Romeo,
Fatback Band,
The Move,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
Quando Quango,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Fad Gadget,
Eddi Front,
Thompson Twins,
Rapeman,
Shoche,
Peter and Kerry,
Quadrant,
Soul II Soul,
Tears for Fears,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radio Birdman,
Magma,
Television Personalities,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Albert Ayler,
This Heat,
Scientists,
Ludus,
Funkadelic,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
The Barracudas,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.