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 Guinea and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Yazoo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moleskins,
Harmonia,
Boz Scaggs,
Warren Ellis,
Kaleidoscope,
Bush Tetras,
Newcleus,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blackbyrds,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Schoolly D,
Ronnie Foster,
Arthur Verocai,
The Music Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
Altered Images,
Make Up,
Swans,
New Order,
Y Pants,
Eli Mardock,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Fear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fuzztones,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Section 25,
Byron Stingily,
Crash Course in Science,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sound Behaviour,
Pere Ubu,
The Fugs,
Qualms,
Toni Rubio,
Man Parrish,
Public Enemy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Busters,
The Sonics,
Adolescents,
Marvin Gaye,
OOIOO,
the Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.