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 Burkina and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
X-102,
H. Thieme,
Absolute Body Control,
Panda Bear,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sarah Menescal,
Ten City,
The Slackers,
Alton Ellis,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Foxx,
Von Mondo,
Soul II Soul,
Henry Cow,
Barbara Tucker,
Dark Day,
The Count Five,
Babytalk,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young,
Graham Central Station,
Fluxion,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
Tubeway Army,
Mary Jane Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Cal Tjader,
Loose Ends,
Rekid,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
Howard Jones,
Marine Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Cecil Taylor,
Wire,
Icehouse,
The Happenings,
DJ Style,
Al Stewart,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.