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 the UAE and from Tokyo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Techniques to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Howard Jones,
Wings,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
The Walker Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Los Fastidios,
E-Dancer,
Boz Scaggs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Tres Demented,
Audionom,
The Dirtbombs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eddi Front,
Talk Talk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
The Music Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry's Kids,
10cc,
Thompson Twins,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Vogues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Scott Walker,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
the Association,
Aural Exciters,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neu!,
Hashim,
The Zeros,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.