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 Botswana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 PIL to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Monks,
Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Alison Limerick,
Joy Division,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
Rosa Yemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flipper,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monolake,
Fad Gadget,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sällskapet,
Harmonia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Little Man,
Brick,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Barracudas,
Accadde A,
Anthony Braxton,
Rekid,
World's Most,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Tim Buckley,
X-Ray Spex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Althea and Donna,
Lakeside,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
June of 44,
Graham Central Station,
Audionom,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yazoo,
JFA,
Andrew Hill,
Loose Ends,
Reagan Youth,
Ossler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Warsaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.