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 Portugal and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fugs,
Ornette Coleman,
X-Ray Spex,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Buckinghams,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
These Immortal Souls,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Görl,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
Eddi Front,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Roxette,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
The Skatalites,
Josef K,
the Normal,
Pussy Galore,
Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Enemy,
Warren Ellis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Archie Shepp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Young Rascals,
Stereo Dub,
Moebius,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus,
Albert Ayler,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Lynne,
Sällskapet,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.