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 Suriname and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Searchers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Khruangbin,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
Rod Modell,
Sun City Girls,
The Last Poets,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
EPMD,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Babytalk,
A Certain Ratio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Velvet Underground,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liliput,
The Trojans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eurythmics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sam Rivers,
Section 25,
Jimmy McGriff,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques,
Desert Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Halsall,
Surgeon,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
PIL,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Sherman,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slackers,
Thompson Twins,
Slave,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Terry,
the Bar-Kays,
The Happenings,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mummies,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.