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 Cambodia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Kool Moe Dee to the disco 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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Carl Craig,
Sonic Youth,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Swell Maps,
The Vogues,
Essential Logic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yaz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Japan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Evens,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moleskins,
Theoretical Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
cv313,
The Barracudas,
John Lydon,
T. Rex,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
Yazoo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masters at Work,
The Index,
Cheater Slicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Model 500,
The Dead C,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kas Product,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Fluxion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.