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 Oman and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Michael McDonald 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 Amon Düül II to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Sonic Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
The Trojans,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
June of 44,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
Parry Music,
Scan 7,
Television Personalities,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Boz Scaggs,
Freddie Wadling,
Television,
Con Funk Shun,
Boredoms,
Audionom,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ornette Coleman,
Cheater Slicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
New York Dolls,
Quando Quango,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
Duran Duran,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Girls At Our Best!,
U.S. Maple,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Steve Hackett,
Arab on Radar,
Nirvana,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.