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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moody Blues to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Henry Cow,
Harry Pussy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Arab on Radar,
The Five Americans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sight & Sound,
The American Breed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alice Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Wells,
R.M.O.,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
Roxette,
The Moody Blues,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Niagra,
Warren Ellis,
Harmonia,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
The Barracudas,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Ken Boothe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scan 7,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
The Selecter,
Angry Samoans,
Hashim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
Terry Callier,
Cameo,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultravox,
Chris Corsano,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Christie,
Nils Olav,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.