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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sexual Harrassment to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Vladislav Delay,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
Lalo Schifrin,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Music Machine,
Negative Approach,
Spandau Ballet,
Bronski Beat,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Clarke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
Bush Tetras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ossler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kas Product,
The Fortunes,
X-102,
The Blues Magoos,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Groovy Waters,
Scion,
Chrome,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Theoretical Girls,
The Toasters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Altered Images,
The Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cluster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hasil Adkins,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.