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 Oman and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Parry Music 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Minutemen,
Nirvana,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
E-Dancer,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
The Dead C,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Parry Music,
The Motions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ten City,
Slave,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Rosa Yemen,
The Barracudas,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
John Lydon,
Janne Schatter,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anthony Braxton,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jacob Miller,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
Theoretical Girls,
Arcadia,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
Mission of Burma,
Au Pairs,
Liliput,
MC5,
Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Knickerbockers,
Section 25,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.