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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the dance 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Terry Callier,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Nick Fraelich,
Sandy B,
OOIOO,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Junior Murvin,
Von Mondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Main Source,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Henry Cow,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mummies,
The Vogues,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lower 48,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
New Age Steppers,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
Sam Rivers,
Bang On A Can,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mark Hollis,
Icehouse,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doors,
Aural Exciters,
Warren Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Sun Ra,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grey Daturas,
Unwound,
Mantronix,
Rosa Yemen,
Liliput,
Ken Boothe,
X-Ray Spex,
Underground Resistance,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.