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 Ivory Coast 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Underground Resistance,
EPMD,
The Real Kids,
Anakelly,
Dennis Brown,
Danielle Patucci,
Thompson Twins,
Byron Stingily,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Flash Fearless,
Quadrant,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Pus,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Janne Schatter,
Black Flag,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultravox,
Tim Buckley,
Lightning Bolt,
Cymande,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
Basic Channel,
Ludus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
Robert Wyatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brothers Johnson,
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Bluetip,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Pylon,
Oblivians,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.