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 Mali and from Manila.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Absolute Body Control to the punk 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Man Parrish,
the Sonics,
The Selecter,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Skaos,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Flag,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Young Rascals,
The Happenings,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Soft Machine,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
Lyres,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ludus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Joe & The Fish,
UT,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Al Stewart,
Aaron Thompson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ponytail,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Q and Not U,
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Jimmy McGriff,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.