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 Saudi Arabia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
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 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 Red Krayola to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Lindisfarne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
kango's stein massive,
Iggy Pop,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultra Naté,
Royal Trux,
The Pretty Things,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
The Index,
Suicide,
Pole,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chrome,
Qualms,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moby Grape,
Prince Buster,
The Doors,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aloha Tigers,
The Five Americans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Knickerbockers,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
The Skatalites,
Susan Cadogan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Cluster,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Wyatt,
Rosa Yemen,
Zapp,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
David Axelrod,
KRS-One,
Magma,
Minor Threat,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.