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 Ireland and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang On A Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Evens,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camberwell Now,
Mars,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
Toni Rubio,
Archie Shepp,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Laurel Aitken,
Schoolly D,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
U.S. Maple,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fugs,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
Black Bananas,
The Searchers,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül,
Altered Images,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Curtis Mayfield,
David Bowie,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
Bob Dylan,
The Gun Club,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
Tommy Roe,
the Swans,
Easy Going,
The Leaves,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hoover,
Hardrive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Agitation Free,
The Saints,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.