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 Cameroon and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 John Cale to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boredoms,
The Victims,
Model 500,
The Trojans,
The Doors,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Barracudas,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four,
R.M.O.,
Black Flag,
Lindisfarne,
Bush Tetras,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scientists,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare,
Johnny Clarke,
Nik Kershaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The American Breed,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter & Gordon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fatback Band,
Groovy Waters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
June Days,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moby Grape,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
H. Thieme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacques Brel,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Motorama,
Pere Ubu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.