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 Serbia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Raincoats to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
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,
the Association,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Stiv Bators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pierre Henry,
Freddie Wadling,
Flash Fearless,
These Immortal Souls,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
The Real Kids,
Don Cherry,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
Pere Ubu,
Surgeon,
Intrusion,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
Sandy B,
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Ponytail,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacob Miller,
Von Mondo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Archie Shepp,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Trumans Water,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispy Ambulance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-102,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
KRS-One,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.