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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Rites of Spring,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
Wings,
Guru Guru,
Tommy Roe,
The Pop Group,
The Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
R.M.O.,
Barrington Levy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slackers,
Donald Byrd,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Steve Hackett,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
Tom Boy,
kango's stein massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marvin Gaye,
Audionom,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Rekid,
Skriet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Scion,
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
The Walker Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Lightning Bolt,
ABBA,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
Unwound,
Altered Images,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joey Negro,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ponytail,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.