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 Senegal and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 John Holt to the rock 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
Yazoo,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sällskapet,
the Swans,
The Birthday Party,
Mars,
CMW,
The Invisible,
Robert Hood,
Audionom,
David McCallum,
Outsiders,
The Evens,
Steve Hackett,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
Hashim,
New York Dolls,
Bad Manners,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronan,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
The Raincoats,
Infiniti,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
Heaven 17,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masters at Work,
Archie Shepp,
the Normal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Liliput,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alison Limerick,
Duran Duran,
Roxette,
Susan Cadogan,
Make Up,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pierre Henry,
Max Romeo,
Kenny Larkin,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.