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 Morocco and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hill to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Buzzcocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Television,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Young Marble Giants,
Rapeman,
Unrelated Segments,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oneida,
Albert Ayler,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Modern Lovers,
Neil Young,
The Mojo Men,
Cameo,
Pulsallama,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
Siglo XX,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
FM Einheit,
Funkadelic,
Sight & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Quando Quango,
Porter Ricks,
New Age Steppers,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bush Tetras,
Adolescents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Toni Rubio,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Ornette Coleman,
The Last Poets,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun Ra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mantronix,
Reagan Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.