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 Yemen and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
FM Einheit,
OOIOO,
Nik Kershaw,
Bad Manners,
Ronan,
Television,
Terry Callier,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liliput,
ABC,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Robert Hood,
Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joensuu 1685,
The Beau Brummels,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sugar Minott,
Suicide,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Ohio Players,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Outsiders,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sonics,
Minutemen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joey Negro,
Bluetip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Buzzcocks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Wake,
Harmonia,
cv313,
the Slits,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Connie Case,
Gastr Del Sol,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
Roger Hodgson,
Skaos,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.