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 Madagascar and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Copeland to the disco 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
The Seeds,
Tim Buckley,
Jeff Lynne,
Barrington Levy,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gladiators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
Cal Tjader,
The Techniques,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moleskins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Yusef Lateef,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Copeland,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
Buzzcocks,
Zero Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Minnie Riperton,
Slick Rick,
the Normal,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Infiniti,
Lou Christie,
The Slackers,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
The Mojo Men,
Donny Hathaway,
The Human League,
Monolake,
Y Pants,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Motions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker,
Prince Buster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.