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 Ivory Coast and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Essential Logic to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell 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?
The Barracudas,
Jacob Miller,
Funkadelic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Y Pants,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kayak,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Drive Like Jehu,
Silicon Teens,
Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mars,
Black Moon,
Blancmange,
Graham Central Station,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
Oneida,
Black Bananas,
Pierre Henry,
Lyres,
Hoover,
The Last Poets,
The Dirtbombs,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Dennis Brown,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sällskapet,
Black Flag,
Marmalade,
Crash Course in Science,
Flamin' Groovies,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arab on Radar,
Television Personalities,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
Oblivians,
Half Japanese,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
Scrapy,
Ronnie Foster,
Index,
PIL,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.